Unwilling Alliances
by Bobo's Donuts
Summary: SCORPIA and Help Earth have teamed up, predictably, and MI6 and CHERUB must in turn team up, predictably, to stop whatever it is they're planning. But something unpredictable is coming and nobody has any idea what it is. Sucky summary, R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **You know people spend a surprising amount of time on these. I own neither Alex Rider nor CHERUB. These belong to Anthony Horowitz and Robert Muchamore. There. Done.

**Summary: **SCORPIA and Help Earth have teamed up, predictably, and MI6 and CHERUB must in turn team up, predictably, to stop whatever it is they're planning. But something unpredictable is coming and nobody has any idea what it is. Sucky summary, R&R!

**A/N: Okay! **

**This is my first AR/CHERUB crossover; no, scratch that these are my first AR and CHERUB fics at all so I apologise if people are OOC – just another reason for you to review and let me know! **

**UNWILLING ALLIANCES CHAPTER ONE**

**ALEX POV**

_Naturally, MI6 had to step in just when his life was starting to take shape again. Sure, he was still the school druggie, his best friend was his _only_ friend and he had a whopping great scar over his heart that just emphasised the fact that he should be dead, but at least there were no men pointing guns at his head, no terrorist plots he had to foil single-handedly, and the fate of the world wasn't resting on his shoulders for once. That was about as normal as it got for Alex Rider these days. _

_Until, of course, the inevitable happened. _

A ring.  
>The first indication that the inevitable had happened.<br>Another ring and Alex grudgingly picked up the phone, knowing full well who it would be.  
>'Mr Rider, this is Mrs Jones.'<br>Ah. The inevitable had happened.  
>'Would it be considered rude if I hung up?'<br>'I would not advise it, Alex. Now if you could come to the bank, we have to talk.'

_So, like the dutiful slave he was, he'd gone to the bank, under strict instructions from Jack that if he didn't come back by ten that night she would subject him to an all-romance movie marathon the first chance she got. This was enough to make him considerably worried, and it didn't seem likely he would be returning late; even if he had to take MI6's resident helicopter to meet the deadline. _

'Alex. It's good to see you.'

He didn't trust himself to open his mouth, so took a seat and settled for glaring at Alan Blunt and Tulip Jones. There was an awkward silence. When they both seemed to realise he wasn't particularly interested in pleasantries, Blunt spoke.

'We have a mission for you.'

Alex's jaw clenched, but still he didn't say anything. Mrs Jones took over.

'Alex, recently a large supply of explosives has gone missing.'

'And how does that concern me?' He'd done it. He'd spoken. He tried to keep his eyes emotionless, and could tell by the exasperation that was showing in Mrs Jones' that he'd succeeded. Always nice to know.

'We believe that SCORPIA may be involved, however it is our belief that they are acting purely as financers for another terrorist group.' This was enough to capture Alex's attention.

'What? Who?'

'Well, you may have heard of the group Help Earth …'

_One brief explanation later and Alex could conclude that this was an ordinary enough mission, or so it seemed; but then came the bombshell. No pun intended. _

'THERE ARE OTHERS?' Where had that come from? One moment he'd been MI6's most valuable asset, the next there were a whole bunch of willing spy kids they could have used instead. It took all his control not to kill somebody. Literally.

Some calm part of him appreciated the irony in this. MI6 were responsible for this change, this lack of conscience, of emotion, in Alex. And now not only were these changes significantly dangerous to those who had triggered them, he discovered they hadn't been necessary in the first place!

Mrs Jones was attempting to placate the livid teenager.

'You must try to understand, Alex, we ourselves didn't know. CHERUB is a highly secretive branch of MI5 and –'

'It was out of our control.' Mr Blunt stated, his face devoid of any emotion, as usual. But that was no comfort to Alex, who by now had crossed the line of violence and felt calmly furious. Deadly furious. This was usually the point, the detached part of him mused, where he did kill somebody.

'I don't believe this! I've gone through so much crap for you lot and now I find it was all for nothing? You've been using me when you could have been employing others who have chosen this life, instead of ruining mine! This is bullshit!'

_But the deal still stood. MI6 were his legal guardians, and if he wanted to keep Jack, he didn't have a choice in the matter. He was going to be helping CHERUB whether he liked it or not. This sucked. _

**Okay, so let me know what you think! **

**I don't know if I should continue this which is why the chapter is relatively short, but if I was to keep going CHERUB would be in the next chapter. **

**Please review. **

**Even if you're telling me not to continue (nicely; no flamers **_**please**_**), please review. **

**Righto, that's all from me for now,**

**Riley Erin **


	2. Introductions

**Disclaimer: **I own this not. Sad face.

**A/N: Wow! Thank you all so much for reviewing; my jaw literally dropped when I opened my inbox and saw all these lovely messages from :) **

**So here's the next chapter, as promised, with CHERUB. Once again, beware of OOC-ness, because I've tried to do a different POV for almost everyone in this chapter, but I think they're all pretty much okay … **

**Also, I apologise for any typos or mistakes, I've proofread the first bit about a HUNDRED times, but finished the rest in a bit of a rush. I'm really going to try and update regularly, but really it's the roll of the dice and obviously there are going to be times when a delay is unavoidable, sadly. **

**So hopefully this pretty much covers the 'mission' and CHERUB's reactions to Alex – not much action; okay, **_**no **_**action, it's basically an initiation sort of chapter. **

**Enjoy! **

**ALEX POV**

Well this was awkward.

Alex again glanced down at his orange shirt and picked at the hem, annoyed. All he'd heard for the past half hour was: 'Can't talk to orange', despite his best attempts to get some answers. Not that he'd had many people to ask. The only person he had been able to interact with was a tall, balding man who had led him to this spacious office and left him there without a word. Somehow, however, he doubted he would get any other responses from the others he had passed in the hallways, who all had made a clear point to ignore him.

Now he was standing, back to the wall, his gaze shifting anywhere other than the four occupied chairs at the front of the desk. He didn't trust his likely reaction to looking at one member of CHERUB, let alone four of them. He had been provided a chair, but felt it best to decline. He felt anything other than relaxed here.

So this was CHERUB. Alex couldn't help the occasional flare of anger when he thought about it. The whole ride over – from the infuriating ignorance of being confined to the back of a van to the even more infuriating silence of the front seat – his emotions had been so conflicted that he had been left feeling rather exhausted. He should be happy, he reflected, that this officially gave him an excuse to refuse any more missions from MI6 – after all, they had a whole school of spies just like him. Well, no, not just like him. Mr Blunt had made it clear that he considered Alex far more experienced and efficient than the CHERUBs, who he had described as 'information gatherers, nothing more'. But Alex didn't quite agree. From his point of view, child spies were child spies and that, itself, was pretty impressive. Their abilities were bound to vary – and the fact that he had been trained for this business since he could walk was obviously going to make him "more efficient".

But this conclusion just made him angrier, reinforcing the fact that had MI6 known what they were doing, he would never have been dragged into this in the first place.

So yes, his emotions were conflicted. That was just about the only way to describe it.

**JAMES POV**

The kid was seriously starting to get on his nerves. It wasn't the fact that he had refused to sit. It wasn't the fact that he was looking anywhere other than James, Kerry, Kyle and Bruce, who had all been prepared to be friendly. It wasn't even the fact that James had no idea what he was doing in Mac's office with an orange shirt. It was more the … atmosphere around the kid. Like any second he'd be ready to spring up and into the shadows. It was unnerving, to say the least.

Finally Mac walked in, looking stressed and just a little embarrassed to have kept the CHERUBs (and the orange shirt) waiting. He sat down distractedly and pulled a bunch of papers out of his desk drawer, glancing once at the orange shirt before addressing the CHERUBs.

'I suppose you're wondering just why you four have been called here.' There were a few murmurs of agreement but the four were less outspoken than they usually would be. Obviously, the orange shirt's presence wasn't just bugging James. Mac didn't seem to notice, and continued, 'Well, this is … um,' He started looking through the papers, but the kid beat him to it.

'Alex.'

Mac looked surprised, but nodded, finding what he was looking for. 'Yes, Alex Rider of MI6.'

Okay. It was fair to say that James hadn't been expecting that last bit. The sixteen year old stared more openly at Alex, who looked to be around fifteen or fourteen. MI6? But surely … CHERUBs were the only children spies, weren't they?

"Alex" seemed to have anticipated their confusion, and just carried on staring at the opposite wall. Kerry, meanwhile, had voiced James' thoughts.

'But Mac, since when do MI6 employ children as well? And since when do we have anything to do with them?'

Alex snorted, and James twitched. Yep, the kid was still getting on James' nerves.

'Maybe you'd like to explain, Mr Rider.' Mac turned politely to Alex, and the boy in turn looked at them all. There was a pause and James didn't think he'd say anything at all, but then he spoke.

'Well, from what I've gathered there is a situation that involves both MI6 and MI5, and we've been chosen to handle it.'

There was silence.

Obviously, Kerry hadn't expected such an abrupt answer and seemed to be at a loss of what to say; which didn't happen very often. James resisted the urge to high-five the kid.

While the situation between him and Kerry was, as always, unclear, James still found her incredibly annoying at times. That is, when he wasn't staring at her, love struck, like a lost puppy; a source of never ending amusement for Kyle. Speaking of whom:

'So how many other kids are there?' Kyle asked, and although he was looking at Mac the question was directed at Alex.

'Just me.' Was it just James or did Alex sound – bitter? Sure enough, he could have sworn there was a flash of anger on Alex's face before it closed up again and the kid turned to look at the wall. 'Do you think we could just get on with the briefing, please? I don't know everything yet either.'

Mac took a hint and handed out copies of a mission briefing to the four CHERUBs and Alex, the latter taking his and reluctantly sitting down next to Bruce who so far had been silent. James shook his head bewilderedly and turned to the briefing.

_**CLASSIFIED**_

_MISSION BRIEFING FOR JAMES ADAMS, KERRY CHANG, BRUCE NORRIS, KYLE BLUEMAN AND ALEX RIDER_

_DO NOT REMOVE_

_DO NOT COPY OR MAKE NOTES _

_Help Earth is a terrorist group that focuses on 'bringing an end to the environmental carnage wreaked on our planet by the international oil companies and the politicians who support them' via violence. CHERUB has come across Help Earth many times and has prevented numerous attacks on various governmental and political events. However, it is believed that Help Earth have now teamed up with another, more ruthless, terrorist organisation, SCORPIA. _

_Evidence of this alliance is a recent robbery of a supply of explosives going to a mining company. The explosives were stolen at a shipping ground. There are a number of men believed to be involved in the theft, all working at the shipping ground in question. These men are mostly petty criminals that focus on thefts and fraud to receive profits that exceed that of a shipping ground employee, but have not been considered threats to national security until now. _

_SCORPIA and Help Earth are suspected for this theft due to a tip off from an undercover MI6 agent working on a completely separate case involving the smuggling of drugs out of the country that happened to overhear a conversation between the thugs responsible. The target, location and time of the attack are unknown, as well as the motive for the alliance of SCORPIA and Help Earth. _

_An accomplished MI6 agent has been nominated by MI6 to work undercover with CHERUB agents James Adams, Kerry Chang, Kyle Blueman and Bruce Norris. The goal of this is to determine the above details and ideally to prevent the attack. However, while CHERUB agents will be posing as children of mission controller Zara Asker and hopefully befriending the thugs' children, Rider will be attempting to use the information procured by CHERUB agents to infiltrate SCORPIA for reasons classified outside of MI6; the opportunity to uncover inside information on SCORPIA having been recognised and used accordingly._

_Brian Norway, a suspicious employee of the shipping ground 'Brysons', where the theft took place, has two children by the age of sixteen and seventeen. These are Max and Teddy Norway. It is the job of James Adams and Kyle Blueman to befriend these brothers and subsequently gain access to the Norway home. _

_Jeff Reynolms is also a suspected participant in the Brysons explosives theft, and has two twins, Brianna and Toby Reynolms, by the age of sixteen. It is Kerry Chang and Bruce Norris' job to befriend these two siblings and subsequently gain access to the _Reynolms _home. _

_**IMPORTANT: _

_This mission has been classified HIGH RISK, due to the involvement of SCORPIA. CHERUB operatives are reminded of their choice to not participate in the mission, should they wish to stay at campus**_

**ALEX POV**

Well, he'd learnt some things he didn't know. Alex now had a clearer idea of what he was getting himself into. But instead of focusing on that, he couldn't help but stare at the last sentence. _'Should they wish to stay at campus'? _

When had he been given that choice? Never! Anger began bubbling to the surface – again – as he struggled to keep his features calm.

**JAMES POV**

It was clear to James that the teenage spy was angry about something. Furious, more like. But he had to admit, the kid was good at keeping his emotions in check. And judging by the clenching and unclenching of fists that was going on, it wasn't easy. James felt a tinge of envy; he'd never been very skilled at keeping his temper.

**KERRY POV**

Kerry glared at James, who was so obviously staring at Alex Rider it was embarrassing. In fact, she was surprised the spy hadn't noticed. Then again, she guessed he probably did; most people ignored James when he was like this anyway. She frowned. How old was Alex? Fifteen? Because working with MI6 was a big deal, even when you were an adult. And if you were that young, and by yourself …

**KYLE POV**

Kyle didn't like it when kids were taken advantage of. This fact alone had gotten him into constant trouble over the years in the various children's homes he'd been sent to. It also made him respect CHERUB more, because they not only gave orphans the opportunity to a decent home, they also offered those decisions and didn't force them into situations they didn't want to be in. Not that any kid had ever turned down a mission; in fact, they'd be crazy too. But still. So when he discovered that the fourteen year old standing in front of him worked for MI6, he wasn't very happy. The boy obviously wasn't happy. So he wasn't, either.

**BRUCE POV**

He studied the boy intently. Judging by the way he moved, Bruce could tell that Alex had had martial arts training. What other kinds of training, he didn't know, but there was something about the ease with which he held himself and the constant wariness in his movements. He was gonna enjoy sparring with this boy: he knew it.

**REVIEW! Here's the deal: at least five reviews and I will update again. **

"**Phew – that should give me some time to figure this story out!"**

***Computer blips and five reviews are received***

"**Damnit!" **

**Riley Erin **


	3. MI6 vs MI5

**Disclaimer: **I own about fifty billion bobby pins, but … well, alright, I don't own these books. Anthony Horowitz and Robert Muchamore do. But I have fifty billion bobby pins! I'll trade! Anyone? No? *sigh*. I hate bobby pins.

**A/N: Hey everybody! I got reviews! Ah, life's good. **

**I apologise for the (slightly longer than was strictly necessary) wait; but I've been pretty occupied with dentists, crayons, midnight feasts and bobby pins (I HATE bobby pins!) … anyway, here we are :) **

**Okay, so I've received a few hints as to the customary "Alex vs. CHERUB where Alex kicks butt" fight, so … well, it was coming anyway ;) Just be aware that I do not usually write action scenes. So this is … kind of a first. IT WILL MAKE HISTORY! **

**Enjoy. **

**MAC POV**

Mac waited patiently for the CHERUBs and Alex to finish reading the briefing. He had distinctly noticed the fact that Alex was not given the option to refuse the mission. He had also been a little concerned with MI6's willingness to hand over the teenager to MI5, not least their secrecy regarding their side of the mission. He sighed quietly. Where would this lead; this new-found alliance with MI6? Of course MI5 and MI6 had always been allies, but not without constant competition; and that was _before_ CHERUB was added to the mix. It was hardly real cause for concern – they were on the same side, after all. But Mac had always seen Alan Blunt as a … well, as a man who seemed to view his employees' lives as expendable; which was not a good quality in Mac's eyes.

Mac looked at the teenagers sitting in front of him. He wasn't used to this – it had been a while since he'd given a briefing. Only on special occasions, since he'd become head of CHERUB, and those were few and far between. It appeared that everyone was relatively finished (Alex looking as though he was having trouble comprehending something and the others looking at him), so Mac clapped his hands together to gain their attention.

'Right! They're the main aspects of your mission. You'll be meeting Zara later to sort out the details, and will leave tomorrow. Any questions?'

'Um, yeah,' Alex started, seeming to snap out of the trance he'd been in with a bit of difficulty, 'Am I going to be posing as Miss Asker's kid as well? I'm not trying to befriend anybody but …'

'Yes.' Mac confirmed. 'You are younger than the targets, but you won't be focusing on them and –'

'How old _are _you, anyway?' Bruce interrupted, looking at Alex curiously. Alex looked slightly amused as he answered,

'Fourteen.'

'Woah,' breathed Bruce, 'And you work for MI6? You must be good!'

Alex's face darkened and any trace of humour was gone. 'I dunno. I 'spose.' He muttered, turning away. Mac frowned, but dismissed the odd reaction and stuck to what he knew.

'Any other questions?' Nobody said anything. 'Right. Well, Alex, you will be spending the rest of the day here, with these four. Get to know each other – you never know how long you'll be masquerading as family. If I could see you here again at four o'clock, you'll get a ride back to MI6.'

**ALEX POV**

The four CHERUB agents nodded at Mac's instructions, again looking curiously at their new "brother", but Alex barely repressed a groan, wondering darkly if he'd ever survive.

If he was honest with himself, Alex would admit that he had no reason to hate CHERUB. They hadn't caused the deaths of his parents or his uncle, they hadn't blackmailed him into missions, and they certainly hadn't gotten him shot. In fact, it was like they hadn't even known he existed! Which, he guessed, they hadn't. But for some reason Alex had automatically assumed they had – that he'd been the only one unaware and that everyone had been having a good laugh behind his back or something. Now he realised that that couldn't be true. Alex could see from the way that CHERUB treated its agents that had they known about his predicament, they most likely would have tried to help him out of it. A scary thought, sure – but a probable one. And having thought it, Alex could conclude that wonders would never cease: an MI-something helping him? It couldn't be! The barely repressed groan turned into a barely repressed chuckle and Alex tuned back into the office. Mac was reaching under his desk for something, and pulled out a green CHERUB T-shirt, handing it to Alex.

'This is a brand new colour!' Mac stated, almost proudly. 'We had to make one up just for you, you know; doesn't happen every day.'

Alex had noticed the shirt ranking system they had going on here. Orange was obviously for visitors or something, but there had been any number of other colours that he had passed on the way to the office. He added it to his list of things to ask the CHERUBS. 'So, green is …'

'Well, we've decided that it's a bit like visitors, only with clearance.' A happy note came back into Mac's voice. 'We're quite proud of it.'

_**O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**_

The five teenagers were standing outside Mac's office door, after being dismissed. 'So what do you want to do?' Bruce practically chirped, but his intention was clear. He wanted to spar with Alex.

'You want to spar with Alex.' James accused, and Kyle smirked. Kerry, meanwhile, frowned.

'Guys, Alex may not want to –'

'It's fine.' Alex cut in. He wanted to see just how good these CHERUBs were. He also knew similar emotions were probably being experienced regarding him, and who was he to disappoint? James nodded approvingly.

'Are you sure?' Bruce challenged. Kyle chuckled.

'Bruce hasn't been beaten … like, ever. He's a legend around here; you reckon you could handle it?'

'Yeah,' James _had _to add his two cents, 'He's quick, the little bugger.' Bruce smirked at the praise, obviously proud, and turned to Alex.

'So, you up for it? What do you fight?'

'Little bit of this, little bit of that.' Alex avoided the question. 'I can handle myself.' James turned to Kyle, as if asking for permission.

Kyle shrugged. They were all intrigued by the MI6 agent.

So they set off down to the dojo.

Alex ignored the stares being sent his way as they walked through the campus. He guessed he should blame the stupid green shirt, but he couldn't say he wasn't used to it. Stares seemed to attract him. Or was it the other way around? Regardless, it seemed that somewhere along the line, he'd gotten more interesting; whether as the druggie of Brookland Comprehensive, the rookie of Brecon Beacons or the legend of MI6; he'd grown used to attracting attention.

Just another thing to add to the list of how MI6 had messed up his life.

'Hey! You guys!'

The shout snapped him out of his reverie. Alex's hand instinctively went to his side where a gun _should _be, but the missing weapon reminded him where he was. He hastily tried to cover up the movement, but was all too aware of the questioning looks he was getting from his companions. Damn it.

Meanwhile, a skinny boy wearing a navy shirt was running up to their group. He stopped when he noticed Alex, and his shirt. 'What's green? Who's this?' He asked, looking to James.

'This is Alex, from MI6. Green is a visitor with clearance or something; new colour.'

The boy whistled. 'MI6, eh? What are you doing here?'

'Mission,' Alex replied shortly.

The boy quirked an eyebrow at the response, but shrugged. 'I'm Callum. What are you guys doing? And have you seen Connor anywhere? He disappeared on me.'

Kyle laughed. 'I may have heard something about him finding out about your plan to set him up with Gabrielle and going to live in a cave … anyway we're off to the dojo. Alex is gonna fight Bruce.'

Callum laughed, and then stopped when he realised Kyle wasn't joking. 'Ri-i-ight,' he began uncertainly, 'and how are you going to explain the incapacitated MI6 agent when the time comes to start this "mission"?'

'I won't incapacitate him!' Bruce declared indignantly.

Alex watched all this, amused. It had been a while since he'd gotten to show off …

The dojo, Alex found, was quite similar to ones he had practiced in with Ian, before the days of MI6. But those days were over; that innocence lost. Ian was dead, and now Alex fought to kill. Quite annoying, really; and he would have to rein that instinct in, he reminded himself. It wouldn't do to accidently kill the CHERUB agent. Talk about awkward.

On the way over they had gathered quite a crowd of followers, all eagerly anticipating the inevitable defeat of the strange visitor. Meanwhile, Alex had started to get legitimately worried. It had been a while since he'd trained properly and even then not with a sixteen year old; with people who were actually a challenge to him. What if he lost it?

'Right,' Kyle was obviously the authoritative figure in this instance, 'Alex and Bruce, on the mat. All the usual rules apply.'

Alex could have sworn he saw money being exchanged and didn't have to think hard to guess who would be the main bet on winning. This Bruce kid really had quite a reputation.

The two boys stepped onto the mat and shook hands.

_Here goes. _

**KERRY POV**

Kerry was worried about Alex. The boy was fourteen, for God's sake! And Bruce was … well, he could be dangerous. Not that he would ever hurt anyone seriously; especially before a mission. She was grateful it was Bruce Alex was fighting and not someone like James. Who knew how that would turn out? In fact, Callum's comment about an incapacitated MI6 agent didn't seem so silly now.

Kerry frowned as Bruce started forward and aimed a punch at Alex, but was impressed when the fourteen-year-old dodged it easily. He sent a punch of his own which Bruce blocked with his left hand before sending his right to swipe at Alex's chest, but suddenly Alex looked less like a fourteen-year-old boy and more like a robot. Dodge, swipe, kick, punch, dodge, block, punch, jab, – he was landing quite a few hits but Bruce was good – and quick. It was evenly matched for a while before Alex seemed to find a way to gain advantage. He stuck a foot out neatly to trip the CHERUB and as Bruce stumbled Alex swiped his legs out from under him, sending an elbow into his nose to speed up his fall. Bruce hit the ground hard. Alex was on him quicker than anyone could tell, his knees pinning the boy's shoulders to the floor, and the fight was over – just like that.

Nobody moved.

Well, maybe a few jaws dropped.

But apart from that,

Nobody moved.

Kerry was pretty sure this couldn't be happening. Did Bruce just get beaten – by a fourteen year old? What on Earth …  
>She couldn't even remember when the change had taken place. One moment he'd been Alex and the next – he'd just been focused; completely, wholeheartedly focused. And his eyes … it was like they'd frozen over. This was not a sight Kerry wanted to see, ever again.<p>

**ALEX POV**

Alex was suddenly aware of a pain in his knees, and when he looked down, he could attribute the cause of that pain to pushing down too hard on Bruce's shoulders. He couldn't even remember the fight … he'd dodged a few punches, and he could remember elbowing Bruce in the nose, but the rest was a blur. Was that normal? He felt a burst of panic but was relieved to see that Bruce was alive – conscious, even. Well, it looked like the CHERUB _was _a bit of a karate wonder then.

Alex got off Bruce quickly and stood there awkwardly for a moment before holding out a hand to help the boy up. Bruce looked shocked – almost as shocked as everybody else in the room. Whispers broke out pretty quickly and people were soon grumbling over how much money they'd lost or were owed. Well, Alex reflected, at least they weren't tripping over themselves to get away from him. It had happened before.

There were still quite a few people eyeing him warily, but it was just like the stares from earlier. Alex was used to that.

Callum and the other three came over to the mat slowly, as if seeing Alex for the first time. Alex winced. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all …

'Where did you learn to _fight_ like that, Alex?' James sounded incredulous.

Alex shrugged, uncomfortable in the attention. 'I've trained with a few different people …'

'Like who?' Well, at least Bruce wasn't looking like he was going to hold a grudge – to the contrary, he was looking at Alex with admiration. That certainly something Alex wasn't used to in his opponents; in fact, by this time, they'd usually pulled a gun on him. And vice versa, mind.

'Well, you know … MI6, obviously, and my uncle taught me some stuff too.'

The others looked disbelieving and about to ask more questions when Kerry interrupted. 'It's quarter to four. We should probably take Alex back to Mac's office, or he'll be late.' Alex could not have been more relieved.

_Saved by the bell. _

If there was anything he _wasn't _here to do, it was to spill personal details about his life and MI6. Sure, he had already established that CHERUB couldn't be hated without justification; of which there was none. But that didn't mean they had to know … _anything_, really. He was still in a completely different line of work. And while there was no justification – _he knew that _– he couldn't help but feel resentful towards these people.

Alex pushed these thoughts from his head as they began the trip back to Mac's office. And that was another thing. _This campus was so damn big … _

_**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**_

**Wow: lots of italics in that last part. **

**5.7 reviews AT LEAST before I update. :)  
><strong>**And before you ask – no. I'm not sure how there can be .7 of a review. Oh well. You'll figure it out. **

**Now, Chap.2 reviews:  
>Thankyou to: Mitch11 (glad you think so :), Blueteeth (Review 2 received and appreciated ;), blackraven66 (I never was very good at puppy dog eyes ...), DammitimmaD (your reviews have made me smile TWICE), Ally's Angel's (glad you're enjoying it), MiamiB (I thought Bruce was the best, so I used him. Kerry comes a close second, I think), biblioholic (technically, this is set just after Snakehead for AR and wherever being 16 fits in with CHERUB, although it may be a teeny-weeny bit AU at times; I'm not good at sticking to timelines), modnar310 (I agree with your opinion), KayKit (:) to you too) and laurencracefan (hope this lived up to expectations).<br>As you can see there were WAY over five reviews (6, 7... 10!) so thankyou to all of the above so much for being bothered, you all made my day/s :D **

**Thanks for reading,  
>Riley Erin <strong>


	4. Sandwiches and Filing Cabinets

**Hello all! Thanks to everyone to reviewed! **

**Special thanks goes to SCORPIAssassin for fulfilling 1.7 of a review! Congratulations! Without you, this fanfic may never have been updated. *solemn face* Moving on... **

**Just to clarify something in regards to when the story is set ... officially, it is after Snakehead for Alex and wherever the CHERUB's ages (16/17) fit in with that series. Bear in mind, however, that I don't own any of the books (except for the first two CHERUBs and Snakehead for AR) so some things may be wrong in regards to that. If so please let me know. **

**So now, moving on. Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

It was two o'clock in the morning and Alex's eyes were starting to itch. It had been a long day. A long, eventful, infuriating, confusing, unreal day. And now he was tired.

He'd been taken straight to the Bank after CHERUB, to have a final mission briefing with Blunt and Mrs Jones. It hadn't really revealed much - Alex had been able to work out most of what they had to say to him beforehand anyway - so that had been relatively quick. Basically all he'd been told was that secrecy was essential regarding the CHERUBs and his task (he was slightly amused and ever so slightly more annoyed to find that MI6 was being quite openly competitive with MI5 after the revelation of CHERUB's existence). He was to infiltrate SCORPIA if possible and find out what was behind this uncharacteristic act of charity towards another terrorist group; more importantly, an amateur terrorist group with questionable potential and a shameful success rate. It certainly didn't make much sense when really thought about.

Next he'd gotten a lift home where Jack had, typically, been up and determined to hear every detail about CHERUB and the upcoming mission. This had been one of the many occasions Alex was grateful for Jack's perceptiveness: he was sure she would have burst into a tirade of indignate insults over the unfairness of his situation where CHERUB was concerned had she not grasped that he was considerably conflicted about it and let it go ... grudgingly.

He'd spent the next ten minutes packing a small suitcase for the mission and was now sitting on his bed, unwilling to move and yet desperate to get some sleep. A bit of a contradiction; nonetheless, he managed to convince his limbs to cooperate and climbed into the bed. He was asleep within seconds.

* * *

><p>JAMES POV<p>

The drive was boring. Zara hadn't brought Joshua and as a result James had nothing to do. Because while Joshua Asker, now nearly four, was still at his best with James around, he had stayed at CHERUB with Ewart for this mission. Neither parent wanted their child in a High Risk environment. To be honest, Ewart wasn't completely comfortable with Zara in a High Risk environment either but his concern was brushed off as protectiveness by his wife. James, for one, had never pictured Ewart as "protective", exactly – but hey. There was a first for everything.

Kerry was sleeping, Kyle was listening to his iPod and Bruce was playing on his Gameboy; but James' Gameboy had run out of charge from his Mario Kart marathon with Lauren the night before, and his iPod had broken the previous week. He settled for staring dejectedly out the window of the van and sighing dramatically every few minutes.

Earlier that morning, nine o'clock sharp, the soon-to-be-Fisher family minus one had met in Zara's office to discuss CHERUB's side of the mission. It had been decided that it would be easier to keep their real first names, for which James was eternally grateful. He always _had_ had a habit of forgetting the aliases. Instead, they were just to be the Fisher family. Zara Fisher and her five kids; because where they were going, having five kids was not completely uncommon – especially with single mums, like Zara was going to be.

In the car James sighed again and, ignoring the stern look he got from Zara, found his thoughts wandering back to his part in the mission. He scowled.

There was one thing about James: he'd really never had to change that much to befriend anyone on his missions. The character he was supposed to be had always just come naturally to him: loud, obnoxious, rude and a trouble maker. So, needless to say, he'd been surprised and _angry _to discover that this time would not be so easy.

Max Norway did well in school, was polite to the teachers, didn't have a good history with girls and spent his lunch times in the library or sitting alone. And James was supposed to befriend _him_? The very idea had gotten a good laugh out of the others, if nothing else.

James scowled again.

Life was so unfair.

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

Alex arrived at the house before the others. He'd been driven by an agent he didn't know and the trip had been boring and awkward. It was a relief to finally get out of the car.

The agent gave him a set of keys to get into the house and helped him carry his bag, but left as soon as he could. Alex didn't blame him.

The house wasn't much to look at; there were four bedrooms (he'd have to share with someone – James or Bruce, probably), a bathroom, a small, dirty kitchen and a dining room that housed the television. They were supposed to look skint, like the rest of the street, which consisted of houses and a road. Fences separated the houses. There were no gardens, no parks or nature strips. Just road. Houses. Fence.

It was quite boring, really.

The one exciting thing about the area was its closeness to the sea. You could smell salt on the breeze, just faintly, and it was a fifteen minute walk to get to Brysons Shipping Ground.

Alex knew it was only fifteen minutes because he wandered over while waiting for the others to arrive. At the shipping ground there were people everywhere, voices calling, boxes being passed along and carried away, ships coming in, megaphones being used … but further down the beach there was peace and Alex could clear his thoughts a little.

He was still angry about CHERUB. They could have been his Saving Grace if only they had been better connected with MI6. So he resented them for that, even if nobody was technically to blame because nobody had technically known CHERUB existed. Nobody had technically known he existed either, for that matter.

But Alex also had to acknowledge the fact that CHERUB had been nothing but welcoming since they met him. Even Bruce, who after their fight the day before had had a blood nose and a black eye, and yet had still managed to pester him all the way to Mac's office about who had trained him.

Alex had come to the conclusion that he would just get the job done. He'd realised by now that Blunt wouldn't be employing CHERUBs any time soon, so their existence would make no difference. Hopefully he'd be able to forget CHERUB existed after the mission and get on with his life.

* * *

><p>Of course, being Alex Rider, he couldn't simply walk past Brysons on his way home without having a poke around. It was his mission to find out how this explosives business was connected to SCORPIA, after all. He might as well get started.<p>

It was surprisingly easy to get to the office without being noticed. Alex supposed it had something to do with the surplus of activity around here; what was one kid amongst so much to do? The door was locked, but Alex made short work of that. He opened the door as quietly as he could and slipped inside, shutting it again silently behind him. A quick search through the draws revealed nothing out of the ordinary, so Alex moved to the filing cabinet. One more picked lock later and he was flipping through a folder full of financial difficulties recorded in matter-of-fact black pen with a smudge here and there. However, the alarming debt of Brysons Shipping Ground didn't seem to have anything to do with SCORPIA. There hadn't been any recent profits or unexplained amounts of money or debts payed off; in fact, everything seemed unusually … _boring_. Over all, Alex was slightly disappointed at just how easy it had been and just how little information he had gained. That is, until he heard footsteps. He was just putting the file back in the filing cabinet when he became aware of voices in the distance. He froze, heart hammering in his ears, willing the voices to fade into the background or go in a different direction, but, _typically_, no such luck.

Someone was coming.

And scarcely had Alex had time to curse the lack of hiding places had the doorknob turned.

* * *

><p><strong>JAMES POV<strong>

'Finally! Dry land!' He cried dramatically, leaping from the car and running over to the house where they would be living for the next few months. Zara shook her head wearily but besides that James got no other reaction. His friends were used to his antics.

Zara threw Kyle the keys and the four CHERUBs stretched their stiff muscles and let themselves into the house.

Alex's bag was set beside the kitchen table. 'Alex, we're here!' Zara called, but there was no answer. Bruce shrugged.

'He probably went for a walk. What's for lunch?'

Zara and Kerry exchanged a fleeting glance before they were ushered unceremoniously out of the kitchen so that the boys could inspect the contents of their cupboard.

* * *

><p>'What is it about my sandwiches?' James mused aloud, taking another huge bite of his lunch. 'They're just so good! I must have a gift!' He continued, his mouth full of chicken.<p>

Kerry rolled her eyes and Bruce mock glared. 'I'll have you know that _my _sandwiches are the best, thankyou very much!'

'Oh yeah? I was trained by the almighty Lauren, master of toasted sandwiches. I don't think you can get any better than that.' James boasted triumphantly.

'Well I have credentials from the legendary CHERUB campus Kitchen of Wonders and its top chef, Jeff of the Breadknife. You think you can top that?' Bruce raised an eyebrow challengingly.

'I _know _I can top that, and so do you, you food mongering devil of –'

'_That _will do, James.' Zara waggled a finger at the two of them. 'Everybody knows _I _make the best sandwiches, anyway. I am a mother, you know.'

There was a pause.

'Yeah, you do make the best sandwiches.' Bruce consented.

'That's a good point.' James added, nodding at Zara. 'But out of Bruce and I –'

'Eat your sandwich, James.'

'Yes ma'am.'

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

'They're onto you, Brian, and I'm not going to be there to sort it out when they figure out what you've been up to!'

'I know that, Ted, but what am I supposed to do? I've done my bit, now I'm just waiting to be paid!'

'What? You expect me to believe that?'

'I expect you to _trust _me!'

'Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Brian. I've seen you and Jeff sneaking around: copying files, hacking into my computer. _My computer_! I can't just turn a blind eye; you're corrupting my business!'

Alex willed himself not to move. There was a mop propped up beside him and numerous tin buckets stacked next to _that_. If he knocked them over his position would be immediately discovered, and there was nowhere else to go if it was.

He was jammed in a maintenance cupboard, his knees tucked up to his chin in order to fit and his legs already aching as a result. He'd just managed to squeeze inside before the two men entered, already arguing loud enough that they didn't hear him trying to get comfortable. Alex had already heard enough to satisfy him but he got the feeling he could be stuck in this cupboard for a while. Story of his life.

Meanwhile outside the confines of the cupboard, the two men - whom Alex assumed to be Ted Brysons, owner of Brysons Shipping Ground, and Brian Norway, father of Max and Teddy Norway and the target of James and Kyle's investigation - kept arguing.

'You agreed to help me out with this, Ted.'

'I _agreed_ to be understanding. But how can I be _understanding_ when I don't _understand_ what the hell is going on? Now I don't know about you but I've got work to do. So I suggest you and Jeff and whoever else you've recruited sort yourselves out before I have to for you.'

Alex's eyebrows had knitted together in confusion. Brysons had known about the explosives theft? Or maybe he'd known about something else that was going on and hadn't made the connection to the theft. Or maybe he was orchestrating the whole thing! But what profit could he possibly hope to receive? And he hadn't mentioned anything about getting paid, that had been Norway ... Whatever it was, something was not quite right here.

The men had left by the time Alex broke out of his reverie, the door banged shut behind them. Alex made himself count to sixty in case one of them came back, and then moved swiftly and silently out the door, making it out of Brysons without being noticed.

He made it back to the house in record time, the conversation he had overheard playing in his head.

* * *

><p><strong>There we are! <strong>

**Okay, Chap 3 reviews:  
>Thanks to: xDarklightx (glad you're enjoying this), Blueteeth (I fixed it! :D), laurencracefan (haha me too), biblioholic (Erm, funny story ... I actually made a mistake (NO! Never!) (It's true) and made the shirt grey, and then published the chapter, had a heart attack (because grey's already taken), and had to think up a colour that had already been used before too many people spotted it! :S ... but I did try and not make it <em>too <em>bright and colourful, like the younger kids' shirts, if that counts for anything ... OH! And green can also reflect - in a very abstract way - Alex's time with SAS, you know green camouflage-y stuff, yeah that could work ;), SCORPIAssassin (special thanks already awarded - you are officially awesome ), i-luv-jazz-hale (I completely agree about the whole "match made in heaven" thing - that's why I wrote this in the first place!), and modnar 310 (I'm not sure about K-Unit - I don't know how I'd go writing them but I have briefly (BRIEFLY) considered how they might come in. Oh and don't worry about the rambling, I do it all the time! Although I'm not entirely sure that's particularly comforting ... oh well *grins manically* - thanks for reviewing, anyways!). **

**Okay THIS time ... hmm ... what about 6 REVIEWS? Before I update :) I'm sure you'll handle it, no probs ;D **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Riley Erin :) **


	5. Monkeys and Dead Cats

**Greetings, Earthlings. I'm back! With another chapter! (Yay, yay, yay, yay, yay ...) **

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, added this story to their favourites or their alerts. You guys are awesome. No, really. You are. **

**Here's the new chapter; hope you like ... Can I just say before you read that I've been reading a few parodies at the moment, so I may have unintentionally put some stuff in here that isn't strictly credible, or is a little bit silly, but I swear it's not my fault! I was just in this frame of mind but I knew that if I put off writing the chapter it would take even longer, so here. **

**Enjoy. :) **

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><p>'So you think the owner of the shipping ground is in on it … whatever "it" is,' Kerry said slowly, everybody trying to make sense of the confusing new developments in their heads. The five teenagers and mission controller were gathered around the table of their new home, lunch forgotten. That is, forgotten for some; James sat staring regretfully at his sandwich while at the same time trying to look as though he was paying attention to what was going on. Bruce nudged him with his elbow. Bruce was nudged right back. The boys began a full-blown wrestle on the floor while everybody <em>sane <em>tried to ignore them and Kyle tried to resist the urge to join in. Alex glanced at them irritably.

'You get used to it.' Zara dismissed them with a shrug, 'Now may I ask what you were doing at the shipping ground in the first place?'

Alex shifted uncomfortably, unused to being subjected to such a scrutiny-filled glare, Jack usually going more for "casually fear-inducing". 'I was in the area …'

'And you thought you'd get a head start on the mission.' Kerry finished understandably, shooting him a sympathetic look. Zara frowned disapprovingly.

'Alex, I understand you feel the need to perform well on your assignment, but you do need to remember your own safety. The mission's not worth you dead.'

Alex compared this statement to the many unsaid gestures of MI6, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes; barely. In fact, it came out as a sort of twitch, and Kyle looked vaguely concerned. 'Look, I appreciate your concern, but it's really no big deal. I just thought I'd check the place out as long as I had some free time; I mean, who knows what could happen in a day or two? They may have cleaned out the filing cabinet, or installed an eye-scanning system for the office door. Besides, I wouldn't have heard that conversation if I'd just stayed here, bored.'

'That's true, Alex. I'm just worried about your safety, that's all. I'm your mission controller, no matter who we both work for, and you are my responsibility for the duration of this mission.'

'I understand. Really. Now, I'd better go unpack.' Alex left the room, taking his suitcase with him, before Zara or anyone else could say otherwise. This sudden compassion for his well being was disturbing, and he wasn't really sure how to cope with it.

There was a bang from the adjoining room where James and Bruce were now throwing various household items at each other, and Zara sighed, rubbing her temples.

'I'll go make sure they haven't broken the TV.' Kerry muttered, and got up and left the room, leaving Kyle and Zara alone at the table. There was a silence before Kyle picked up his sandwich and resumed eating, seemingly unfazed by the past few minutes' discoveries.

'So what do you think of Alex?' He asked through a mouthful of bread and mayonnaise. This had, after all, been the first time Zara and Alex had met. The former chuckled humorously.

'I don't know, Kyle. The boy is ... _serious_. Is that normal?' She turned to him just as a muffled thump could be heard from the other room.

'Ow, Kerry, that was my head!' Whined James' voice.

'Nope.' Kyle nodded his head in the direction of the room, from which could now be heard a noise somewhat resembling a monkey being whacked on the head with a dead cat. '_That's _normal. By the by, that's not a real monkey I can hear in there, is it?'

Zara shook her head, suddenly amused. 'I haven't ordered any, so it's not my doing if it is.'

'Just checking.'

* * *

><p>Alex wandered out of the kitchen and then stopped, realising that he had no idea who's room he was sharing. He turned a corner and took a peek inside the first one. There was already a suitcase on both beds, so he shut the door quietly and checked the next one. Zara's. The next one still had a free bed. He shut the door behind him, relieved for the privacy. It hadn't occurred to him that he would be living with four other teenagers and an adult; perhaps he'd been confident that after surviving in a slum he'd be able to cope with a large family-ish environment. However, if the meeting in the kitchen was anything to go by, this was going to be an interesting few weeks. And hopefully it would just be that: weeks. He didn't know how he'd cope if he was stuck here for six months or something.<p>

Alex shook his head, slightly amused at these thoughts. It was funny in a way; him getting nervous about a mission like this when he'd faced far worse, to be sure. Apparently there was one thing even more dangerous than crazed millionaires intent on ruling the world: teenagers. And Alex still had to remind himself that by teenagers, he meant: 'people his own age'. But what with his recent social isolation at school other than Tom (who, let's face it, wasn't strictly stereotypical of a teenager, either), Alex hadn't had much practice interacting with 'people his own age'. Weird.

Alex's musings were cut short when the door opened and a head stuck sheepishly inside. James cleared his throat.

'Um, Zara says that you still haven't had lunch and there's chicken and salad and stuff if you want to make a sandwich. She specifically told me _not _to offer to make you your sandwich, even though my sandwiches are the most blessed thing on this earth besides Playstation,'

'Oi! I thought we agreed _my _sandwiches rule undefeated!' Came an indignant cry from somewhere else in the (really rather small, Alex realised,) house, before James continued after throwing an annoyed look over his shoulder at whoever it was that had made the comment.

'ANYWAY, she also said that unpacking could wait and we have to discuss tomorrow before she forgets.' When Alex just looked at him blankly, James elaborated, 'You know. School! We start tomorrow! Zara says that even though you've got a different job you still have to come talk tactics or something like that ...' With that James trailed off and the head vanished again, the door hovering a moment before swinging fully open and bumping the opposite wall with the slightest knock (which Alex was sure could be heard from the kitchen through the papery-thin walls). Oh, yeah. The house was on a hill.

* * *

><p>Alex lay in bed long after he should have been asleep that night. He couldn't help but think of Jack, and wondered how she was doing. He wasn't sure why he was so concerned about her now, though; after all his other missions, she'd survived fine. Maybe it was all these good intentions coming from the CHERUBs; they were rubbing off on him. Alex wasn't sure whether to be pleased about that or not. But there was another reason he purposely kept his eyes open. Alex had been having nightmares. It was to be expected, in his situation. He had been through an awful lot, after all. He just wasn't keen on thrashing about in the night about some other past endeavour of his and wind up waking up James, who he was rooming with. Although something told him the sixteen-year-old would be a heavy sleeper.<p>

The "Fishers" were up bright and early the next morning, Zara humming cheerfully and pouring out glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice along with pancakes and rasperry jam.

Just kidding.

The truth was that believe it or not, Zara was also used to the admittedly pampering lifestyle of CHERUB campus. In fact, she was the last one awake out of five teenagers. Which was pretty remarkable.

No, the first functional human being that morning was Alex - which was unsurprising. He plodded out to the kitchen to treat himself to CocoPops and questionably safe milk, and sat there staring unseeingly at the cereal. It turned out, surprisingly enough, that he hadn't woken up that night. Whether or not he'd had a nightmare was another thing - he may not necessarily have remembered it - but he was pleased enough with the fact that he couldn't recall anything particularly alarming from the night and was satisfied that neither would James.

Next was Kerry, and Bruce followed shortly after. Kerry's demeanor mirrored Alex's but Bruce was a morning person - as he happily informed the others - and he was consequently the first one ready for school mere minutes after his rising. It was just a tad annoying to the two teenagers slouched over the table, but Bruce simply retreated into the garden (if it could be called that; a strip of grass, more like) and practiced karate moves. It seemed he had not completely accepted the defeat from Alex, after all.

Almost an hour later Kyle dragged himself out of bed and James followed grudgingly after.

Just another typical family morning, Alex supposed. Not that he would really know. It was rather interesting, once you got over the absurdity of their real situation and started to put into play their cover story. They were, supposedly, a family. Brothers and sisters.  
>Normally there might be a problem with some of them who didn't resemble one another at all - Kerry for one, who looked distinctly Asian - but their situation covered that more than any aliases. Put frankly <strong>(AN: "I'll be Frank, Carl," "I'd rather you be Marf, Marf.")**, their house and school would mean people would automatically assume that while Zara was the sole mother of all five children, a number of fathers would have been involved. So that took care of _that_.

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

School was uneventful. Since Alex had no specific person he was supposed to befriend he sat at the back of classes, took notes diligently (just because he was behind at his old school, didn't mean he had to be here ... kind of ironic, really,) and answered questions when asked. He didn't make any particular effort to be noticed; knowing him that would come soon enough and he wasn't altogether jumping up and down in his seat in excitement. He listened out for any gossip surrounding the Shipping Ground, came up with zilch, and returned to the house at the end of the day with two pages English homework and a Maths assignment. School. He just couldn't escape it, could he?

**JAMES POV **

_Okay, James. Take a deep breath. Release your inner intellectual. Restrain your inner trouble-maker. Release your inner intellectual. No, don't talk back to a teacher - no, no, NO! Okay. That was close. Just stay focused. Organise your books, or something. Look smart. And cue smart expression - now. People looking at you weirdly ... okay, stop trying to look smart. This is hopeless. _

This. Was. Hopeless.

First, he was jeered at by a dimwit who needed to take a shower. Punching said dimwit in the head sounded so favourable to James that he nearly ran with it. Until he caught sight of a tall, lanky boy at the other side of the classroom. Max Norway.

Max Norway was actually quite good looking, in a way. He could definitely make some improvements; the vest, for example, had to go. If he just put in the effort ... But no. James couldn't risk jeapardising his part of the mission by starting off with the person he was supposed to befriend: _"Hi, I'm James. You look like rubbish, but we'll see what we can do."_ He wasn't a makeup artist, or anything. No, he just had to act like being smart was natural to him and gain the boy's trust that way. Oh, boy.

* * *

><p><strong>That's it! Sorry if it's a bit short ... is it a bit short? I can't even tell ... <strong>

**Chap4 Reviews!  
>Thankyou to: xDarklightx (I think I see a theme developing here ... glad you like it :), The First Gatekeeper (No! You are awesome!), biblioholic (sorry if the dividers confused you; like the organisational perfectionist freak I am, let's just say dividers make me feel more emotionally secure ... okay, that sounded weird.), wolfern (Haha ... I know the feeling), Mona Lisa (I love the idea ... and am currently thinking about how to possibly use it ;D And I love super Alex too - I mean, what is he without superhumanBond-worthy abilities? Well he's still awesome ... oh well), MiamiB (glad you're liking the story, and yeah I'm thinking about the whole SCORPIA thing), DammitimmaD (thanks! Hope you enjoyed this one ...), AllThatIsGoldDoesNotGlitter (did I mention I like your username? Yeah ...) and pulchra fabula (thanks for reviewing ;) **

**Reviews are wondifluous and you definitely should write one! Constructive criticism especially welcome, please feel free to tell me it's rubbish ... actually, if you could try and phrase it nicer than that then I would appreciate it ... **

**OH! And the A/N half way through? Can anybody tell me what TV show that's from? You get a cookie if you can ... **

**Riley Erin :) **


	6. Good Ol' Dewey and a Whole Lot of Books

**Hello to all of you on this fine morning-to-be. :) Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy. **

* * *

><p><strong>JAMES POV<strong>

Lessons for James were torture. Every time the teacher asked him a question he had to be able to answer it correctly. And that meant that he had to pay attention. He even had to take notes! And when the kid from the back (the one who needed a shower) made some joke with his friends, James couldn't turn around and laugh with them. He tried to catch Max's eye throughout English, and then Maths, but the boy was completely absorbed in the lesson. It was ... weird. James had never really associated with people who actually cared about their marks and he hadn't planned on starting. Damn this mission.

'...think, James?' James snapped back to attention and desperately scanned the board looking for a clue as to what the teacher had just asked him. Said teacher raised an eyebrow and repeated the question, albeit with exaggerated impatience. 'I said that the denominator looks like the main clue in the equation. What do you think, James?'

'Yes. Definitely. What you said.' James replied quickly, trying to look as thought that was the most obvious thing in the world. The boys at the back snickered, and James couldn't help but bristle. He had to clench his fists to stop himself from doing something stupid (very appealing; just happening to be incredibly stupid as well). But with the incident of Samantha Jennings all those years ago (which was particularly relevant at the moment, he couldn't help but reflect) in mind, he restrained himself with difficulty and turned back to whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing.

The first break from classes and James grabbed the opportunity to talk to Max. He hung around the doors of the classroom, discreetly (or so he hoped) tying his shoelaces until Max passed him and made out to head for the oval, barely glancing at James despite it being obvious that he had nobody to sit with. James could have yelled in frustration of being completely ignored when Max hesitated, and then turned around again.

'Um ...' He started out, obviously not sure how to approach the new kid. Ah, bless him. He was nervous!

James looked up hopefully. 'Yeah?'

'Well, er, if you haven't found anywhere else to sit already, why don't you ... I mean you could sit with me, if you want.'

'That'd be great!' James replied a little too enthusiastically, but Max didn't seem to notice. He broke out into a big grin.

'Cool. I didn't think you'd be interested.'

'Why not?' James asked, falling in step along side him as they started to walk down the hallway and deciding to play along.

Max shrugged. 'People don't usually want to sit with me. I end up in the library most days.' He seemed embarrassed. Well, good. The kid seemed to have a bit of social awareness, after all. James smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner.

'That's stupid of them. Not that there's anything wrong with libraries, of course.' He added quickly.

'Really? You think that?' Max seemed genuinely surprised. James could understand that. He was, too. Shocked, really. And annoyed. Annoyed at himself for bringing up libraries when he knew next to nothing about them. Damn his eyes ...

'Er, yeah, of course. I love ... libraries.' The very word sounded foreign on his tongue.

'Wow. Not every day someone that likes libraries comes into my class.'

James smiled weakly. 'Hah. That's me. I love libraries ...' Oh dear Lord.

* * *

><p><strong>KERRY POV<strong>

Brianna Reynolms was just the sort of girl that Kerry could get along with. She wasn't particularly popular, ditzy or arrogant. In fact, she was smart, tough and involved in a whole bunch of martial arts. It was a fluke, really, that they could be so alike. If Kerry had been superstitious or religious, she would have said it was a sign. But she was neither; so she dismissed it as good luck.

Getting to know Brianna was easy. Kerry simply waltzed up to her group at the first break and asked sheepishly if she could sit with them. She was immediately accepted and soon found herself talking and laughing with these girls. Okay. Make that: _great _luck. Kerry vaguely wondered how James was going with his bookworm friend for a moment, before shrugging it off and joining the conversation the girls were having on a movie they wanted to see.

'And the best bit is it's got that guy in it!' One girl stated dramatically. The others rolled their eyes.

'You're always going on about: "that guy".' Brianna smirked. 'Which guy exactly are you in love with this week?'

'Oh, you know,' The girl, Sarah, didn't seem to have noticed Brianna's sarcasm. 'That guy. With the hair ...' She trailed off looking at her friends for recognition, but they just stared blankly back. She waved her hand dismissively. 'Oh well. Just that one with the hair, you know, in ... um, that other movie.' The others laughed, Kerry included.

'So anyways,' Another girl, one called Jessica, changed the subject, 'About that brother of yours, Kerry ...'

'Which one?' Kerry quirked an eyebrow.

'The one two years under us. What's his name ...'

'Oh, you're just as bad as Sarah!' Brianna laughed. 'It's Alex, isn't it, Kerry?'

Kerry shifted uncomfortably. 'Yeah ... Alex. Why do you ask?'

'_He's so cuuuuuuuuuuute!_' Nearly all the girls cooed at the same time; so synchronised, in fact, that Kerry nearly wondered if they'd been rehearsing it or something.

'He is _not _cute.' Kerry said firmly, trying desperately to think what to say if they asked any questions about Alex. She only just realised that she knew almost nothing about the boy, despite Mac's instructions to get to know each other. All they had established that particular afternoon at campus was that Alex was some super-ninja. And she could hardly go about blurting facts like that out to these girls. Mercifully she was spared the awkward situation when Sarah snapped her fingers triumphantly.

'Herbet! It's something Herbet! I'm sure of it!'

* * *

><p><strong>KYLE POV<strong>

Piece. Of. Cake.

Meet Teddy Norway: funny, laid back, not a "tough-guy". Kyle was supposed to befriend him? Easy!

Well, that was what Kyle thought _before_ he met the kid. Turned out he was pretty private. Only opened up to the few close friends he hung out with. But Kyle was confident that with a bit of time, he could worm his way into that group of friends. He'd start with one of the more social of them: some guy called Jack. If he could get on his good side, maybe he could gain access to Teddy that way. A bit more strategy involved that usual, sure, but Kyle was looking forward to the challenge anyway. He sidled up to Jack just before Science, as they were lining up outside the classroom.

'Hi,' He said, not nervous. He'd been sent to enough kid's homes to know how to handle introductions. 'I'm Kyle.'

'Oh, you're the new kid, right? I'm Jack.'

Simple. The two started talking and Kyle followed Jack out to sit with his friends at lunch. Sure enough, by the end of the day, Kyle was on a first-name basis with Teddy Norway. They actually got along pretty well. Jack didn't seem to mind that Kyle pretty much ignored him from that point on, which he was thankful for. Now he could just focus on the mission. And what better opportunity for digging around than a visit to the Norway house itself? With plans for the weekend successfully made by the end of Kyle's first day at school, he was feeling pretty good. Now he could just relax, and let the intel come to him. Clever boy.

* * *

><p><strong>BRUCE POV<strong>

Bruce had a good feeling about this mission. He just did.

The first thing Bruce noticed about the school they were going to - a small school with so little importance that its name doesn't matter - was that while there seemed to be very few students from the outside - sitting in the grounds, walking to school, that sort of thing - there were nearly six different classes for very year level. It was weird, how one minute you're in a small school surrounded by one or two kids your own age, and the next you're engulfed in a tidal wave of teenagers, little kids and young adults alike. It really had something for everybody.

It was because of all these students that Bruce was not in the class of any of his ... "siblings". And neither were they with each other, if he remembered correctly. The school had a habit of separating siblings in the same year level. Some may say this was to encourage them to get out of their comfort zone and make new friends. Others would say it was a cruel power play on the teachers' behalf. Take it as you will.

But Bruce just had a good feeling about this mission. Sure, his "target" (for lack of a better term) was away sick the day he started. But that was fine. He still had a good feeling about it.

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

_What was he doing at this school, anyway?_ Alex found himself thinking around about the time his teacher gave out an essay for homework due the following morning. Wonderful. If his nightmares didn't keep him up all night, the appropriate structure of an editorial sure would. (Sarcasm).

Alex found himself studying his classmates to pass the time. They weren't really anything special. One boy had MS, another, it was rumoured, was in a gang (what a refreshing change to be _hearing _these rumours, not on the receiving end of them), and one girl was apparently "knocked up" and just waiting until it became more obvious to leave school. Not really anything too extraordinary.

Alex was sitting behind a girl that he did find interesting, however. He didn't remember her from his first day, so either he hadn't noticed her (which was unlikely) or she'd been away sick or something (which was more likely). He found himself intrigued by the fact that she could one moment be so invisible and the next so _not _so; _**so **_not so that all eyes were inadvertantly drawn back to her.

For starters, this girl - Andrea, was her name - was way more intelligent than the rest of their class. And not in a facts and figures, _educational _way, but in a real-life way. Not only did Alex hear her employ sarcasm during the day (which was impressive; sarcasm seemed to be lost on everybody else in this school), she also pulled the teacher up when they pronounced 'Saudi Arabia' wrong. The teacher was a little flabbergasted, but thanks to the help of Dictionary[.]com they were able to determine that she was in fact right. The only response she gave to the many jeers and glares she received from the more competitive girls of class was a smug smile, and Alex couldn't help but relate to that.

But there was something else. Something in the way she moved; in her eyes; it was familiar in a way Alex didn't want it to be. But he couldn't think why. Not romantically, that was for sure. It was like something was tapping away at the back of his consciousness but just faintly, and he couldn't for the life of him decide what it was. It was like this girl was dangerous; whether in a good or bad way Alex couldn't be sure. But for a fleeting second - just a second - Alex couldn't help but think that it was as if this girl was like him. What this thought meant he also didn't know, he noted with annoyance, as it had been brief and not deliberate. But it had been there.

Alex turned back to his darned English, determined to figure out what seemed so wrong about Andrea, and also determined not to. He was on a mission, and didn't want to prolong it any more than necessary. Forget _this _school, Alex wanted (for reasons beyond even himself) to just be able to get back to Brookland. Not the "Oh, look, it's Alex Rider the druggie" aspect of Brookland, but the familiarity; the sense of normality that walked its halls.

Okay. This English teacher and his stupid metaphors were definitely getting to him.

* * *

><p><strong>NOBODY IN PARTICULAR'S POV<strong>

'How was school, kids?' Zara asked cheerfully, finally awake, sorting out afternoon tea for the others when they got back.

'Oh, it was spiffing.' James said sarcastically. 'Absolutely chipper. Not only am I now extremely acquainted with the Dewey Decimal System, I also have enough library books to last me a lifetime.' He dropped his bag which landed with a surprisingly loud _thunk_ on the ground. 'Or at least dislocate my shoulder,' He muttered. Kerry giggled and Bruce had to restrain himself from following suit. Karate champions did not _giggle_.

'I'm going to Teddy's house this weekend,' Kyle said absentmindedly, opening up his homework onto the kitchen table before Zara shooed him off, instead loading up the table with fruit. The teenagers rolled their eyes; or at least, those from CHERUB. Zara had been on this health-kick for a while now. It was getting tedious for those who had to go on missions with her; all of whom came back looking unnaturally healthy and acting superhumanly hyper. Zara never seemed to notice, or if she did, she didn't say anything.

'Good work, Kyle. How about the rest of you? Get on well with your targets?'

There was an assortment of 'yep's and Zara seemed satisfied, retreating back into the kitchen to concoct God knows what next.

Kyle opened his homework back onto the kitchen table.

'Anyone understand the theory of relativity?'

**And I'm finishing it there. Let me know what you think! Review! Reviews make me update faster, plus if you have any particular interests in possible plot lines let me know. I have an idea what the unpredictable thing is now ... *cackles gleefully* **

**The A/N in the last chapter is from 'School of Comedy'; I only know because I did a sketch from it in my grade's talent show (and came second, coincidentally). Very funny TV show. ["I'll be Frank, Carl." "I'd rather you be Marf, Marf." "I do be. And I do not know how you do do it." "I'll tell you: it's like this ..."] **

**Right!  
>Chap5 Reviews, thanks to: Mona Lisa (look out for your plot idea, it's coming ... heehee), xDarklightx (I updated soon!), biblioholic (Thanks once again for your great reviews! Don't feel you need to watch more TV; I watch an abnormal amount, is all; hope this answered some of your questions :) and Dammitimmad (Glad you think so!) <strong>

**Once again, review please, they are thooper-dooper and spiffing. **

**Riley Erin :) **


	7. De ja Vu

**Yeah ... I guess I must be bored today. I don't think I've ever updated so quickly! **

**Here's chapter 7, have fun reading it or whatever ... sorry. I'm tired today, and my eyeball is bruised. Yep, I'm serious: My EYEBALL is BRUISED. All vein-like. I mean is that even possible? **

**Disclaimer: I wonder if Anthony Horowitz and Robert Muchamore, the owners of CHERUB and Alex Rider, have ever bruised their eyeballs?**

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

Dinner in the "Fisher" household was an interesting event. James and Kerry usually ended up having an argument about something simple (like the use of shoelaces, or the relevance of grapefruit to a maths equation), Bruce and Kyle would discuss cars or fighting or something similar, Zara would join in (Alex was initially surprised about her knowledge of speed boats) when she saw fit and everybody would awkwardly try and incorporate Alex into this already-established pattern. He didn't really mind. It was becoming easier to loosen up around the CHERUBs, the amount of time they spent with one another contributing enormously, and actually act as if they were family. Zara explained that this often happened: if agents were undercover for a long time, they tended to bicker more than usual about the strangest things, and similarly they got to know each other more. Alex supposed it stood to reason.

Nothing very eventful happened that first week. Alex had a few sleepless nights, but that was normal for him and he had been correct in assuming James would sleep through just about anything. Although Kyle had been to the Norway's house that weekend, and the others had all eventually gotten closer to their targets as well, no interesting information showed itself. Alex ended up deciding that should it continue like this for one more week, he would go and have another look at the shipping ground.

Alex had found that it was much easier to ignore Andrea than he had initially anticipated. He actually got a good look at her face for the first time the other day, and had realised that she wasn't in fact anything particularly special. Quite plain, she had waist-length black hair and reading glasses, but other than that there were no distinguishable features about her. She was quite good at English, but then again Alex was quite good at Maths. They were evenly matched in everything and she didn't seem to notice him at all. So she quickly left his mind and he concluded that he must have been feeling particularly paranoid that day when he could have sworn there was something off about her. Occasionally the feeling came back, like in PE when she kept up with him the whole lesson and didn't seem puffed at all afterwards, or in Computer Studies when she fixed this problem on another girl's computer even after the teacher had declared it hopeless. But some people were just like that, weren't they?

It was a Thursday when the first exciting thing since they had arrived happened. Kyle returned home - for indeed Alex had started to inadvertantly think of this crummy little house as home - after spending the night at the Norway household. Yes. Apparently 17-year-olds had sleepovers too. He looked pretty pleased with himself and for the CHERUBs, who had all experienced this feeling enough on their missions, and Alex, who was particularly talented at reading facial expressions and body language, etc, it was clear that he had discovered something. Sure enough, as the table was getting set for dinner, a folder was produced out of his backpack. Zara eyed it dubiously.

'They're copies, right? You didn't just s_teal _a file?'

Kyle shook his head, 'No, I made copies.'

'Copies of _what _exactly?' James came into the room and plonked himself down into a chair, Bruce emerging from a bedroom and Kerry coming in from the kitchen. Alex sidled up and peeked at the papers that emerged from the folder as Kyle opened it.

'Financial records of the Norways.'

'Exciting.' Bruce said dryly, and Kyle shot him an annoyed glance.

'Two weeks ago, the day before the explosives theft, the Norways received $10 000 into their bank account. They said it was a lucky run on the pokies.' Kyle explained, eager to prove his good work. Alex snorted. These people and their pokies. 'Anyway, yesterday they got another $10 000. Same excuse.'

'So what do you think?' Zara frowned, already piecing together the puzzle. Alex answered for Kyle.

'Somethings going to happen tomorrow, then?'

Kyle nodded. 'I think that's right. Or something's already happened and we just haven't heard about it.'

Alex shook his head, deep in thought. 'No, I reckon we'd know about it pretty soon. News travels fast here; plus, I don't think Bryson expected anything else to happen. He knew about that first theft, or something similar, but he wasn't prepared for a second one. So he wouldn't be covering for them if something else were to happen.'

There was silence as everybody tried to get their heads around this new information. Zara turned to Kyle, eventually.

'What's the Norway's financial situation just generally?'

'Not good,' Kyle said, bending back over the papers. 'They were nearly declared bankrupt a few years ago, which is when we know Norway became involved in criminal activity.'

'Well how do we know this has anything to do with Help Earth or SCORPIA?' Kerry cut in. 'It could just be a few crims' way of making some extra money.'

'But they mentioned Help Earth and SCORPIA, remember? That agent overheard them.' James replied, frowning in concentration. Apparently it didn't come naturally to him.

'The agent could have heard wrong.' Kerry defended herself, 'I mean, all we have to go on is an eavesdropped couple of words. They could have been completely unrelated to the missing explosives.'

At this point all eyes turned to Alex. 'What?' He said indignantly. Whenever people looked at him like that, it always meant:

'You'll probably have to do a bit more digging around, Alex.' Zara said grudgingly. _Yep_. 'As much as I don't like putting you in that danger, we don't really know why we were called in to investigate this, like Kerry said, other than a few words that could have been misheard. It was the higher-up's choice, and we don't know what they're thinking.'

'Can't you just ask them?' Normally Alex wouldn't shy away from getting a few answers, but he could spot a whole lotta loopholes in this plan.

'Not while we're undercover, we can't.' Zara bit her lip, apparently thinking. 'I thought we would have had a bit more luck, by now.' She admitted. 'But it just seems like we're getting nowhere. And these records prove there's something going on that we don't know about.'

Alex had to admit, she had a point. He sighed. 'Yeah, sure. I'll be off then.' He turned to head for the door, but Bruce called out to stop him.

'You can't just leave straight away!' He cried. Alex turned around, confused and slightly annoyed at being delayed. He might as well get on with it. But Bruce cut him off before he could protest. 'We're having pizza tonight!'

* * *

><p>Okay. Alex would admit it: that pizza had been good. And he had definitely been starving, even if he hadn't realised it until that beautiful piece of craftsmanship arrive on the doorstep in a cardboard box. But still. Alex could have done without the extra weight in his stomach as he shifted in the shadows. He was, at this moment, crouched behind an old ute at the edge of Brysons Shipping Ground. There was still a fair bit of activity going on, even though it was fast approaching dark. Alex figured he'd lie low until most people went home for the night, the manager included, and then sneak back into the office and have a better look around. A bit of surveillance wouldn't hurt, and hidden in the shadows behind an old vehicle, Alex was in the best position possible to get it.<p>

Not that anything exciting was happening.

Not now.

Not now.

Not now.

_Eyes closing - don't fall asleep - drifting away and ... SLAP cheek! Okay. Awake again. _

But still nothing happened. Bloody shipping ground.

Soon enough, it was getting dark and Alex decided it was time to move in. Slipping through the shadows, he felt himself revert to what Tom may call his "spy mode". Every little sound; every little movement anywhere in a mile radius of him was painfully apparent and nothing escaped his notice. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen nothing. Maybe a flick of blond hair here, a boot there ... but essentially, Alex had blended in scarily successfully and was now at the office. And picking the lock. And opening the door. And _inside _... the office. This time, Alex went through the draws more thoroughly, in the false hope that maybe something else may show itself. But the documents were all boring and there was nothing to alert him to any kind of mischief. Next the filing cabinet. But that didn't reveal any mysteries, either. Alex was considering - just for the fun of it - searching for concealed cupboards or secret passageways when he heard a sound that was all too familiar. Footsteps. Voices. His mind subconsciously made the connection: Footsteps + Voices = People Approaching.

_Damn it! _Alex once again cursed the lack of hiding places in this office as the doorknob turned ... Deja vu, much?

* * *

><p><strong>JAMES POV<strong>

After Alex left, movies were discussed. James didn't quite understand the rush (with Alex, not the movies), but he did understand the fact that if the patterns in Norway's financial records was anything to go by, there was a large chance that something would happen the next day and it would be good to have a heads up if that was the case. He shrugged it off. That was Alex's job, not his. He should just let the crazy MI6 spy get on with what he was best at.

They decided on Kung-Fu Panda. James got bored quickly. For some reason he was restless, and couldn't focus on the movie no matter _how _funny it was. And it was funny. Maybe a sandwich would help ...

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV <strong>

Alex had to wonder how many other times he would find himself stuck in this stupid maintenance cupboard. Because maybe it would be worth his while to do a bit of reorganising before he had to stuff himself in it again. A little more room wouldn't hurt, after all. He strained his ears for voices, but apparently this time there was only one visitor to the office. And if Alex was correct ... it sounded almost as if this person was doing exactly the same thing he had been doing a moment before. He could hear draws being opened, papers shuffling, the lock of the filing cabinet flicking as somebody used a key to unlock it (why didn't he think of that?) and the rustles of the files inside being searched through. Alex frowned. Why would somebody else be searching the office?

But then Alex's ears picked up a second set of footsteps and his heart stopped.

Whoever was still inside the office cursed softly and replaced the contents of the filing cabinet quickly, and Alex knew what was coming next. They would need to hide in the maintenance cupboard.

Sure enough, a second later a tug could be felt on the doors of the cupboard - the doors that Alex was now holding firmly shut from the inside. He hoped whoever was on the outside would mistake this juvenile attempt at secrecy for a locked door. He couldn't afford to be discovered ...

* * *

><p><strong>JAMES POV <strong>

The sandwich didn't help. James was now desperately scouring the kitchen cupboard for chocolate, but it seemed that whoever had gone shopping last had forgotten to get it. He sighed resignedly and headed back to the living room, but froze halfway through the door and snapped his fingers.

'Popcorn!'

James raced back into the kitchen and two minutes later was settling down comfily in front of the TV watching Po humiliate himself in front of the Furious Five. But something was still wrong. For the first time since the boy had left James found himself wondering how Alex was going.

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV <strong>

Alex was just bored now. Whoever had been searching the office before him had seemed to take the bait and decided that the door must have been locked, then given up and, Alex assumed, hidden under the desk. _Best in best dressed _when it came to hiding places as well, it seemed. It had now been almost half an hour since the _third _person had entered the office. But Alex thought this person was actually supposed to be there. They had strolled in taking their time, sat down at the computer and Alex had heard the keys clicking leisurely, not the frantic typing you would expect of someone attempting to override firewalls or something. Unless this person was stupidly confident, they were almost definitely Bryson. Who else?

No phone calls, no cryptic muttering, no video or audio off the computer ... absolutely, undoubtedly, painfully _**nothing**_. Finally the person finished what they were doing, printed something off, and left. Alex almost forgot about the second stowaway and was about to open the cupboard doors when he remembered, and scolded himself for being so careless. Or scolded himself as much as one can while also desperately listening for any signs of movement. There was a rustle as the person climbed out from wherever they had been tucked away the whole time and Alex froze when a cold female voice spoke. It sounded vaguely familiar.

'They've gone. I'm leaving. You can come out now, Alex Rider.' With that there were retreating footsteps and the door banged shut a second time. _What? Alex Rider? _How on earth had whoever that was known that he was there? Who were they? Alex left the cupboard quickly, mentally cursing all things maintenance, and snuck out of the office as fast as he dared in the circumstances in the hope of catching a glimpse of the person who had spoken, but he saw nothing. That is, at first.

As Alex was leaving the Shipping Ground for the _second _time in one week, he caught a glimpse of black hair vanishing down the path that led to the street. Black hair that he knew very well. Black hair, in fact, that Alex sat behind in all of English, Maths and History. The black hair, he knew yet strongly disbelieved, of Andrea.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooh, you're interested now, aren't you? If you aren't; if you're disgusted at what I've done with this chapter, then you know what you should do? You should - very nicely - review and tell me. And if you're interested, well, you should tell me as well. If you're wonderfully happy, you should definitely tell me. In fact, in summary, please please please <em>please <em>review! **

**Speaking of which, for Chap6 Reviews (all TWO of them; this is what I'm talking about, people, I mean _come on_,)  
><strong>**Thankyou so much to Beleth and Mona Lisa. I hope both of you were happy with this chapter. :) **

**Riley Erin **


	8. Alex Is In A Gang!

**G'day! I am currently listening to a very annoying party next door ("Chug, chug, chug, chug!" Jeeze!) and decided that obviously I wasn't going to get any sleep and might as well do something productive. Science homework? Nah. Fanfiction story? Yeah, okay. :) **

**Just to point something out, in case it was unclear: ANDREA IS OF (relatively) NO IMPORTANCE ANYMORE. She will not become a superspy with a troubled past ... I dislike MarySues as much as anybody else. Okay. Just thought I'd better point that out. Right. On with the chapter ... Enjoy :) **

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

Alex didn't mention the (if somewhat brief) encounter with Andrea that night to the CHERUBs. He wasn't entirely sure why; but something was telling him this had to do with SCORPIA and technically that _was _his part of the mission. Besides, CHERUB didn't have anything to do with SCORPIA. If Alex was honest with himself, which he wasn't, he would admit that he didn't say anything because he believed it was none of their business. So, Alex faced disappointed sighs when he reported nothing of interest on his return instead of ... whatever would have happened if he had told the truth.

Needless to say, Alex was eager to get back to school to confront the girl about being at the shipping ground, but found to his disappointment that Andrea was not there the following day. Instead, there was a new boy: by the name of Mark. He was quiet but with some contradiction his face seemed to be permanently scowling. Alex was slightly weirded out by all these odd teenagers. Andrea, CHERUB (who, regardless of how long ago it _seemed, _he had only met a matter of weeks ago) and now some guy with a fake name! And Alex couldn't shake the feeling that Andrea's appearance at the shipping ground, disappearance the following school day and the introduction of this new boy were connected in some way. SCORPIA or no SCORPIA? That did seem the question ...

Kerry had been obviously chuffed that Alex had found no proof of SCORPIA or Help Earth involvement the night before, that supporting her theory of a mistake. But Alex didn't quite believe that. Neither, he thought, did anybody else; they just seemed nervous of contradicting Kerry at such a fragile point in the mission. It was rather amusing, really.

Alex had arrived home just as Tai Lan became victim to the Yushi Finger Hold on Kung Fu Panda. He would gladly admit, that movie was funny. And its representation of heroes was so much more ... heroic. In Alex's experience, the hero was nearly always shot, incapacitated, kidnapped, arrested, unconsious or _dead _by the time they got recognised at all. It was a bit sad, really, that an overweight panda bear had more luck than Britain's so-called "elite". Ironic, too.

The movie had been quickly switched off, however, as soon as Alex was spotted and he was quite surprised and a bit touched by how worried it seemed everybody had gotten when he had taken longer than expected to get back. Zara immediately began fussing and for some reason James sighed in relief and went to make himself a sandwich; now that he could, apparently, "enjoy it". Kyle was visibly relieved and Bruce went to reheat some pizza so that everybody could calm down with a bit of food in their stomachs. James refused; he'd just finished his sandwich.

So back in English, oh that fateful English, Alex reflected on just why their obvious concern had affected him. Maybe it was because, other than Tom and Jack, nobody had ever really expressed worry about his wellbeing before. Hey, a large portion of the people Alex interacted with on a daily basis were trying to shove him off a cliff, or the like. He'd been shot for God's Sake! And nobody had known; nobody had cared; except for a small amount of people, quite a few of whom didn't _really _care so much as feel relieved that Alex would survive and be able to go on more missions as the time went on.

CHERUB of course didn't know about _that _and Alex, for the first time, realised just how divided his life really was. MI6 didn't know much about what went on at his school, his school didn't know about MI6. Neither knew about his personal life (excepting the details MI6 had collected from keeping tabs on him, but they were mostly superficial), except Tom, and his personal life (Jack) didn't know about portions of either, as well as Tom. Then there was CHERUB, who only knew snippets, and the CIA and SAS and ASIS, who didn't even know _that_. The villains he went up against who knew only about him, not his life, and those he encountered on missions, who saw only the steely facade if they were lucky, or if not, just a strange teenage boy running up a hill being chased by machine guns. He had always recognised that his life was complicated, but if you actually thought it through ... that was ridiculous!

That night Alex was reading in his and James' room when the older boy entered. Alex and James - well, Alex and the CHERUBs - hadn't really interacted apart from the mission and it was a bit awkward. James stood there for a moment before walking over to his bed and lying on his back, looking up at the roof. When he spoke it caught Alex by surprise.

'So when did you start working for MI6?'

There was a pause. 'I'm pretty sure that's classified.' Alex said, choosing his words carefully, 'Sorry.'

James shrugged. 'It's okay.' There was an awkward silence. 'It's just that,' James started again, sitting up and looking at Alex, 'I'll be leaving CHERUB in a year or two and I'm not sure what I want to do. Y'know?'

Alex sighed and put the book down. 'I wouldn't recommend MI6.'

'Why not?'

Alex paused, thinking. 'If I said they were all treacherous bastards I'd probably get into a bit of trouble ...'

James snorted. 'You included?'

'Sometimes I wonder,' Alex joked, not letting on how true that really was. 'Why do you want to keep up with British Intelligence? Have you ever considered just having a normal life?'

James shook his head. 'I don't think so. Once you start ... it'd be hard to go back to doing nothing once you know what you're capable of. I don't think I'd handle it very well.'

'But you'd be safe.' Alex insisted, 'You'd be able to have an ordinary family and a nondescript job and average friends. You wouldn't have to lie to the people you loved and you wouldn't be constantly checking over your shoulder in case some whacko you pissed off ages ago decides to show up and get revenge.'

'Old ghost with you, then?' James quirked an eyebrow. 'I've never had to lie to anyone. My mum's dead, God knows where or who my dad is, my sister's in CHERUB and so are all my friends.'

'Then you're luckier than you know.' Alex stated softly. James sighed and lay back down, hands behind his head.

'Alright then, not MI6. You play football?'

'Yeah, a bit.'

'I'm not that good. I never used to do any sport before my mum died.'

'I'm sorry.'

'That's fine. What about you? Your parents around?'

'Not since I was a baby.'

'You haven't been with MI6 since then, have you?'

'I'm pretty sure that's classified, too.'

'Mate, I think you need to check up on that. You can't just _guess _if stuff is classified or not.'

'I have so far.'

'And how's that working for you?'

'Fine.'

'Right. So by that, you mean ...'

'If you have enough disregard for the rules, anything is possible.'

James laughed. 'You got that right.' There was a slightly more comfortable silence. 'Anyway, football. I was going to say something about football ...' James trailed off, thinking.

'I take it you've had to do slightly more excersise after joining CHERUB, then?' Alex changed the subject.

James chuckled. 'Yeah. Basic Training: Hell on Earth. I'm not gonna ask you 'cause you'll just say "Classified", but I assume you've had to do some sort of training as well?'

'Yep. SAS.'

James turned to face Alex incredulously. 'You're kidding!'

Alex sighed. '_That _was Hell on Earth. And if the training wasn't hard enough, the people were evil.'

'What happened to "Classified"?'

'Disregard for the rules, remember?'

'So have you told anyone else about MI6, then?'

'My housekeeper, Jack. She's like my guardian, so she knows. And my best friend Tom.'

'Surely it'd be pretty obvious to your school. Coming back from missions all the time, being fit, etcetera, etcetera,' James said the last word with a funny English accent. It seemed like a habit.

'Nah. It's funny what people believe, but nobody would ever guess that I was a spy. They reckon I'm in some sort of gang, or something.'

At this, James laughed so hard Alex thought he might fall off the bed. Kyle stuck his head in at the noise. 'Afternoon, ladies. May I ask what you have done to James, Alex?'

Alex raised his hands in mock defeat. Kyle grinned, then came in and plonked himself down on the floor.

'Whatcha talkin 'bout?'

'Alex is in a gang!' James managed to squeeze out, calming down. 'Can't you picture it?'

Kyle looked at Alex disbelievingly, but then caught on to the joke. 'Definitely. Add some sunnies, a bandana and a wicked bike, you'd be set!'

Alex rolled his eyes. Kerry appeared in the doorway. 'Who's in a gang?'

James shook his head at her, seemingly awed. 'That girl's ears, I swear. We'll never get anything past her.'

Kerry winked and came and sat on the end of Alex's bed. 'Seriously,' She frowned. 'Alex, you're a great kid and all, but I'm afraid I'd have to step in if -'

'Alex is in a gang?' Nobody had noticed Bruce until he was sprawled next to Kyle on the floor. 'I'm impressed.'

'He's not really in a gang!' James declared, shooting Alex an apologetic look for getting everybody on his case.

'No.' Alex confirmed, shaking his head firmly, 'I am _not _in a gang.'

'Yeah, you fight too well.' Bruce said, nodding his head as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. 'Otherwise you'd probably rely on weapons or strength, and no offence, but you're too small to be naturally scary.'

'None taken.'

Everybody was silent. It seemed, however, that in that past fifteen minutes alone silence had travelled from being incredibly awkward to almost companionable. It was a good feeling.

'So wait - ' Kyle began, 'Why did James say you were in a gang, anyway?'

Everyone turned to look at James accusingly. 'Hey!' He said, raising his hands in defence, 'It wasn't me! It was Alex's school!'

'Why does your school think you're in a gang?' Kyle wrinkled his nose, and everyone turned to look at Alex accusingly.

'It's not my entire school,' Alex shrugged, 'some people are just curious as to why I skip school for months at a time and come back beat up. Just rumours.'

'Don't they know?' Bruce said confusedly. Alex shook his head wearily.

'I can't exactly get my whole school to sign the Official Secrets Act, can I? It'd be out in a matter of days and MI6's greatest weapon would be exposed.' His tone was bitter, like at Mac's office when he had told them he was the only other child spy. Kerry, the most emotionally intelligent of the four boys, sighed.

'So how long have you _not _wanted to work for MI6 then, Alex?' Alex looked at her, surprised. 'Oh, come on, Alex. It's pretty obvious. Don't let those boys fool you; girls are just naturally more perceptive.'

'Are not!' Bruce cried, indignant that Kerry was insulting his intelligence, as always.

'Are too!' She poked her tongue out at him.

'That's an incredibly immature gesture for someone who has just claimed to be the most perceptive in the room.' Kyle pointed out.

'I second that!' James yelled, punching the air in triumph.

'Hey! Stop ganging up on me just 'cause I'm a girl!' Kerry pouted.

'Sexist!' Kyle accused.

Nobody knows who threw the first pillow, to this day. But it got pretty rough pretty fast.

* * *

><p>Alex got a message from Alan Blunt that night - or rather, from Smithers - on his phone. That was so surprising that he didn't consider that fact that it may be something he didn't want to CHERUBs to see and instead raised the alarm. Everybody crowded around the small mobile screen and tried to read the text, but with all the jostling nobody was able to decipher it. In the end Alex ordered them all to sit on the couch while he read it out. Everybody was silent when they realised just how logical that was, and went to sit meekly on the couch.<p>

'Okay.' Alex said, once they were all organised and looking at him expectantly. 'Hi Alex.'

'_You're _Alex.' Bruce pointed out.

'He's reading the message, dimwit.' James hissed. Kyle shook his head.

'You see what I have to put up with?'

'Be quiet!' Zara commanded. The boys shrank and turned back to Alex, who was standing with his hand on his hip and his eyebrow raised.

'You finished?'

'Yes Alex.' James said obediantly.

'Okay! "Hi Alex ..."

_Hi Alex,  
>Hope u r alive and well. Haha.<br>Blunt says 2 tell u that last night a small shed in the country was blown up.  
>He says to research it. I thought I'd save u the work:<br>The prticulr shed was a research lab; focusing on chemicals. It has recently been  
>suspected of animal testing.<br>Don't know what this has 2 do w. SCORPIA - u figr that out!  
>Stay alive and well.<br>Smithers. _

It was a very long text.

Once Alex had finished reading there was silence as everybody processed this new information.

'Well at least we know Help Earth _is _involved, then.' Zara said, eventually, 'And what the explosives were for.'

'Well maybe that was what the $10 000 in the Norway's account was for. Do you think he had anything to do with it?' Kerry wondered.

'I don't know.' Alex shook his head, deep in thought. This seemed far too easy. Was this it? Had MI6 sent him in to help with this mission for nothing more than a shed? Surely they wouldn't waste him on that; surely they could have found better things for him to be doing; or even _left him alone_. How could it be so simple ...

Apparently Kyle was having similar thoughts. 'That can't be it,' He stated matter-of-factly. 'Something else has to be going on.'

'Anyone have any ideas?' Zara asked. Alex wondered briefly if he should tell them what had happened at the Shipping Ground, but thought better of it. By now he had convinced himself tha that had just been a coincidence. There was probably a very good reason Andrea had been there that night. Probably.

Nobody spoke much for the rest of the night. The pillow-fight had taken a lot out of them, adding that new information on top. They were exhausted. It had been a Friday, and so everybody was relieved that it was officially the weekend. But they weren't really in any state to go out partying or anything; not that they would have, anyway.

It was an early night all-round.

* * *

><p><strong>And there we go! Wow; that was a long chapter! <strong>

**Okeydokey, hope everybody liked, whether or not you did is very important to me so you know what you should REVIEW! DEFINITELY!**

**Chap7 Reviews:  
>Dammitimmad (We shall see ...), Mona Lisa (Yes I watch NCIS - when I get the chance - and I am glad you liked the chapter!), redfrog (thankyou thankyou!), xDarklightx (thankyou thankyou to you too!) and biblioholic (I hope this was more informative ... I wrote the last one in a rush, sorry if it was a bit "subjective". Thankyou for the advice; I don't think I'll make them together though ... I never was good with romance :S) <strong>

**Thanking you very much! **

**So anyways, REVIEW! **

**Riley Erin :) **


	9. Ulterior Motives Suspected

**Well, it is the early hours of the morning and I have finished the somethingth chapter! Yay! Sorry if there are a few typos ... I'm not really functioning very well at the moment and can't bring myself to read over this extraordinarily long chapter any more. **

**SO ... Enjoy. **

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

The next Monday at school, Alex was in a slightly better mood. He'd not been woken by nightmares the night before, which meant he was not only _not _exhausted, but he was also incredibly relieved.

Unsurprisingly, Andrea wasn't in class. Mark was, and Alex caught him staring at him a few times. Ugly staring. Bad staring. _**Evil **_staring. It was weird.

But overall he did not make any progress during the morning. The others were all busy with their "friends", gathering information, but so far the arson of the chemicals research shed had only just been released to press. A majority of the school didn't even _know _about it, let alone have any interesting or incriminating evidence against their own parents. Which was ever so slightly discouraging.

The thing about school, was that Alex was technically only here to keep up with his work. Which was more than he could say for most missions. However, him being on a mission at the time, he couldn't help but feel almost subconsciously confused. After all, in missions he was usually deeply undercover, infiltrating a criminal organisation and fending for his life. In school, he was avoiding homework, drifting in and out of various states of consciousness in lessons, ignoring stares and mucking around with Tom. Obviously Tom wasn't here now, and any stares had subsided since his first week, but even so trying to mash the two together was proving difficult. Occasionally he had to switch right back to "Mission Mode", sneaking around, trying to piece together evidence and _still _getting his assignment on Neo-Classicism in on time. It was a contradiction, to say the least. At least the CHERUBs seemed to be used to it: as far as Alex could tell, this was basically all they did on missions. Lucky-ducks.

And of course quite a few of the things that sent Alex into spy mode _had _to happen during school. Alex was sitting in English (where else?) when he happened to glance out the window and spot a crane moving along the road outside the school at quite a slow pace. He had to double-take before he actually took it in. A crane? What on earth ...

He glanced over at Mark's seat, making sure the strange boy hadn't noticed his reaction - it may have been nothing but Alex was getting to be suspicious of him - but was surprised to find the spot empty. Mark had definitely been in school at the start of the day ... where could he have gotten to after lunch? And why was a crane in a town where nothing was supposed to happen? And why had SCORPIA helped to blow up a chemical testing shed? And why was everybody staring at him? ... Oh, right.

'The personification of the tree.' Alex said quickly, and the teacher, temporarily appeased, turned back to the blackboard.

* * *

><p><strong>JAMES POV<strong>

Being friends with Max Norway was really starting to bug James.

Firstly, they had to spend every lunchtime in the library.

Secondly, James had to pay attention in class to keep up this "smart" reputation.

Thirdly, the rest of the CHERUBs and Alex would _not _stop taking the mickey out of him for it.

Fourthly ... must he go on?

It was basically annoying. _Very_. Annoying.

So when sticking around and putting up with it all finally paid off, James was ecstatic to say the least. Not that he could let on about that in front of the nerd himself. The guy was alright, but ... he just had no social awareness whatsoever, and no concept of _fun_. The word was as foreign to Max Norway as 'library' had been to James just a few weeks before.

It all happened one lunchtime in ... the library. Surprise, surprise. Max was flicking absentmindedly through a book on Poetry for an assignment they had to do (which reminded James; he should probably get started ... eugh. Doing all this homework was indescribably infuriating,) when James noticed a scab on the boy's leg. It looked pretty painful, too.

'Hey, Max - where's that from? It looks sore.' James said, keeping his voice low. All these lunchtimes in the library had taught him that Silence was Golden in a place like this. Max glanced down at his leg, seemingly unconcerned.

'Oh - nothing. I was carrying a box and dropped it. It scraped against my leg, that's all.'

'A box?'

'Yeah - we had to pack up the basement the other week at home; I was helping my dad.'

James didn't really expect this to go anywhere, but he knew a possible revelation when he saw one. Might as well look into it. 'Why were you packing up the basement?'

Max hesitated. _Bingo_, James thought. 'Well - we had to use it for storage. Dad needed to keep some stuff from his work at home.'

'Why didn't his work have storage? What was it, stationary and stuff? What does your dad do, anyway?' James knew he shouldn't be firing off all these questions. It was too obvious. But he tried to make up for that by acting like he was clueless. Which, in a sense, he was. But it wouldn't hurt to overdo it a bit, surely.

'Oh, he's a business manager at Bryson's Shipping Ground - you know, near the edge of town? He had to keep some stuff in the basement because a client of Mr Bryson couldn't pick it up right away. It's really inconveniant, actually. The basement used to be a place I could go to clear my head, and now I'm not allowed down there.'

'Surely there'd be enough room?' James said casually, trying to act as if it really wasn't that interesting to him. He picked up a random book, pretending to be interested in it, but hurriedly put it back once he realised it was Pride and Prejudice. Max hadn't caught the blunder, thankfully. The boy might be a complete social trainwreck, but he was able to recognise that something was slightly odd about a boy like James - even a _smart_ boy like James - reading an old classic. Eugh.

Max shrugged uneasily. It seemed this conversation was steering a little bit too far into private territory for the notorious goody-two-shoes. 'Erm - well, I guess dad just doesn't want me breaking whatever it is that's being stored there ... I mean, he made it sound like the client was pretty important.'

James glanced at Max. He'd added the poetry book to the growing pile next to him on the floor and was now perusing a John Keats' collection. James resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and was briefly reminded about Alex's weird twitch that afternoon when they'd arrived. This then lead his mind - his easily distracted mind - to recall the information discovered that afternoon. Max's dad had apparently been going through Bryson's computer with Reynolds ... why? James changed the topic from the mysterious contents of the Norway basement, much to the obvious relief of Max.

'So what does your dad actually do at the ship-place, or wherever it is, as a business manager?' Acting clueless was a lot easier than James would have previously expected ... 'Is he like administrative or something, or does he help move stuff around?'

'I'm not entirely sure. He handles clients and stuff, I think ... sometimes he's had them home for lunch or something; but usually when I'm in school so I don't usually meet whoever it is. That's why we have to have a cleaner, because we never really know when some millionaire is about to "pop round" for tea and cakes.' Max obviously didn't get the opportunity to explain this often, and in Jame's opinion he was having quite a bit of fun being in the spotlight. He subsequently got a bit carried away. 'This particular guy was really important, I think. Dad was so paranoid about the packages getting damaged in some way that he locked the door and wouldn't let us in. He'd go down to check on them and stay there for hours - he even set up a temporary office or something so he could keep an eye on the stuff _and _keep up with his work! It was a bit weird, actually ...'

'Don't worry, I understand. My mum's a complete workaholic; or a least when she has a job.' James added, remembering how they were supposed to be pretty badly off. 'She would probably be the same if money relied on some rich guy's delivery. You wouldn't happen to have overheard the guy's name, or something, would you? I might have heard of him.' James realised he'd been talking for longer than he'd planned and stopped. If this so-called "client" was who he thought it was ...

'I saw it on a letter - a name. I don't know if it was the client but dad got pretty possessive of it so I thought it might be. The name on it was foreign of something: Yrev Revelc. I'd never heard of him. Have you?'

James shook his head slowly, racking his brains for some hint or recognition, but there was none. Not only had he never heard of the man, the name had absolutely no implications of Help Earth _or _SCORPIA. What could it mean? Was the client just some wealthy foreigner; completely uninvolved in any form of conspiracy? Or was something else going on behind the scenes?

* * *

><p>'Okay, okay, okay. So we all discovered stuff today. Let's be mature about it all, shall we?' Zara's impatient voice cut across the tiny kitchen of the house and the voices began to die down. 'Alex, grab a pen and paper. You're scribing.' Zara continued, very much in control. This was one of the moments when it was clear why she was a CHERUB mission <em>controller<em>. She certainly was good at keeping everybody focused on the task at hand. Alex muttered something about always being made the scribe in these situations and sauntered off to fetch the requested items. Once he was back and seated at the kitchen table, pen poised in a remarkably (and slightly humourously) professional manner, Zara spoke again. 'Kerry, you first. What did you find out?'

After all of literally two minutes, the list compiled of all the information known about the mission was quite impressive.

_SCORPIA/HELP EARTH CHEMICAL SHED SMACKDOWN _(As the assorted CHERUB boys had insisted they refer to the mission from then onwards, claiming it to be "in code". Zara was left to marvel just how much more mature than them Alex was, two years younger. She suddenly wondered what exactly had happened to make him so, but dismissed it as being an unusual trait. She silently prayed Joshua would be the same.)

_KERRY - BRIANNA REYNOLDS_

_1) Jeff Reynolds had to use Brianna's computer because his was being "borrowed by a friend". _

_2) Explanation: friend from work needed to sync files to do with schedules, having been away on vacation. _

_3) Bought new USB. _

_4) Has been working late. _

_BRUCE - TOBY REYNOLDS_

_1) Chicken Pox can be a long, arduous illness capable of rendering a sixteen-year-old bed-ridden for all of two weeks. Try to avoid. _

_KYLE - TEDDY NORWAY _

_1) Norways were nearly bankrupt when Brian Norway entered criminal dealings_

_2) Received $20 000 from an unknown source recently - half the day before the explosives were missing, the other half two days before the shed was blown up _

_3) Has also been working late _

_4) Borrowed Jeff Reynold's computer _

_5) Explanation: was offering to cue of a computer virus _

_JAMES - MAX NORWAY _

_1) Norway cellar had to be cleaned out recently_

_2) Explanation: Brysons' client couldn't pick up a delivery immediately and as business manager Brian Norway was assigned to "mind" it_

_3) Norway was protective of storage; locked door to basement and prohibited entry _

_4) Possible name of client: Yrev Revelc (sender name on letter) _

_ALEX - GENERAL _

_1) Bryson may have been aware of explosives theft before-hand; agreed to turn a "blind eye" _

_2) Reynolms and Norway were going through Brysons' computer _

_3) Possibility of additional employees involved in explosives _

_4) Chemicals testing shed (known for animal testing) blown up (Help Earth motivation established; SCORPIA's as yet unknown) _

_5) Crane seen outside school, travelling away from Brysons' _

_CONCLUSIONS_

_1) Brian Norway borrowed Jeff Reynolm's computer, but cover stories conflicted. Ulterior motive obvious. _

_2) With a possibility of others involved in the "Shipping Ground Shenanigan", it is reasonable to believe that SCORPIA/Help Earth/Other would have to pay them as well, therefore others involved are most likely financially troubled. _

_3) The explosives may have been stored at the Norways' house before being moved (?) to blow up the shed (?) _

_4) Help Earth's involvement is almost certain as animal testing was employed at shed _

_5) SCORPIA may not actually be involved. _

_6) There is the possibility that an entirely different organisation is involved _

'That's quite a list,' Remarked Kerry, once the list was finished. 'I don't see anything particularly enlightening when put into word form, though.' There were general murmurs of glum agreement. Alex frowned, looking hard at the writing.

'What is it, Alex?' Bruce asked, noticing the boy's concentration.

'It's the name ...' Muttered Alex distractedly.

'Yrev Revelc?'

'Yeah ... it just seems familiar ...' He mused.

'What? You mean you've heard it before?' Kyle asked. Alex shook his head.

'No, I've never _heard _it before in my life. Just something about it written looks fam -' He froze. Everybody froze with him for a few seconds, before eventually giving up on trying to gouge his actions.

'What is it, Alex?' James demanded, not liking being left out of the loop, but also not liking the expression on the boy's face.

'The name.' Alex whispered, still staring at the paper, 'Yrev Revelc ... it's not a name at all.'

'What do you mean? Of course it's a name. A company, maybe?'

'No! I mean, it's not a name. It's a trick. What is Yrev Revelc backwards?'

'C-l-e-v-errr ... Ve-ery ...' Bruce tried to sound out the words, but sounded instead like some sort of big cat trying to dislodge a ferret bone from its teeth.

'Very clever.' Zara murmured, seeing it before the other CHERUBs. She turned to Alex. 'What does this mean? They knew we were going to find out that name and laid some sort of trap? I don't understand.'

'Neither do I.' Alex glared at the paper in front of him, as if it somehow could be blamed for his confusion. Suddenly he frowned, and looked up from the table. 'What was the chemicals lab actually experimenting on?'

Zara shrugged, glad to be talking about something she understood. 'Nothing particularly special. Cosmetics, if I remember correctly.' She crossed swiftly to the kitchen, where a manilla folder sat inconspicuously against the bench top. She opened it and pulled out not a top secret government file but ... a newspaper. Oh well. They couldn't be superspies all the time. There was a smaller article near the back that talked about the arsen.

'It's a filler article?' Kyle asked, bemused. 'This was a possible terrorist attack!'

'Yes,' Zara nodded, unfolding the newspaper so that it spread over the table in front of the young agents, 'but the government doesn't want people to know that. Besides the usual secrecy, I suspect it has something to do with a cosmetics lab being a threat. What is this country coming to ...'

'I always knew makeup was just a massive conspiracy.' Kerry mused aloud. Nobody wanted to wonder if she was serious. Knowing Kerry, she could well be.

* * *

><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

The next day dawned bright and early, as always, not really caring about terrorist plots or teenage spies or makeup conspiracies, but just focusing on making the sun bright and the breeze gentle.

Just kidding.

The next morning was a shocker. As far as early storms went, this one took the cake. Thunder, lightning, howling wind, hail, the occassional whirlwind ... crazy. The thin walls of the house didn't help, either; everybody was exhausted after next to no sleep in freezing conditions, no less.

All the same, school was boring. Once again Alex found himself in his desk, wondering about Jack and Tom. How they were going ... he found himself thinking up new outrageous ideas that his classmates were probably blaming his disappearance on this time. Jail? Drug-induced hospitalisation? Knife wounds? A desire to travel the world with a band of stray cats and a chicken? Who knew ...

It wasn't until Maths (what happened to English epiphanies?) that Alex noticed something was up. For starters, and he should have been suspicious of this earlier but the storm and near-death exhaustion had distracted him, there was _another _new kid. It was a boy called Will. He had short red hair and a pale face covered in freckles, but was quite well-built despite his sickly stature, and he hung out with Mark.

Secondly, Andrea came back. Well, if "coming back" meant hanging around outside the school gates in a grey rain coat and umbrella. Alex wouldn't even have noticed this had he not been seated next to the window in before-mentioned maths. Just after the start of the lesson the teacher asked him to close it more securely - hail once again beating the tin roof of the school. What could he say? The grey helped Andrea blend in with her surroundings. Just after they had moved on to Distribution and Substitution, somebody else joined her outside the school. It was a man in a black suit, wearing sunglasses despite the storm. At this, Alex had to suppress a laugh. How more cliche could you get?

The two just sort of ... stood there. And about ten minutes before the bell went for lunch Alex understood why. There came a message over the intercom for "Mr Mark Johnson to please come to reception ... Mark Johnson please come to reception." Mark left the classroom without a second glance and, sure enough, appeared alongside the two mysterious figures standing vigil just outside the school gates a second later. They all turned and a sleek black car - one that had never before been and would probably never again be seen pulled up and the three clambered in and drove away. Alex was left with Will for the rest of the day, but thankfully the kid seemed to ignore him.

It was literally just, _just _before the end of class, and Alex's teacher asked him a question. He answered correctly. It was no extraordinary question; just a simple division. Anyone could have gotten it; and that wasn't Alex being modest. Anyone could _literally _have gotten it. And that was why it was no ordinary comment when Will, brushing past Alex while filing out of the classroom, sneered at the MI6 agent,

'What a great answer just then. How _very clever _of you. You're just a _very clever _sort of person, I guess.' And then he was gone, no doubt into another stupid black car with stupid black tinted windows. Something _very _weird was going on. Weirder than usual, anyway. And this was when Alex decided it was time to tell the CHERUBs about the strange goings on in his class.

* * *

><p><strong>Spiffing! And the plot thickens ... <strong>

**Anyone have any ideas about where this is going? Anyone _not_? Regardless you really, really, honestly should review. You don't even have to tell me where you think this is going. Constructive criticism very much welcome, flames ... not so much. Praise also welcome. Lots of praise. Kidding! I'm tempted to LOL but I think it just must be my body drawing on my last reserves of energy and having a few minor subconscious hiccups, is all. Heehee ... **

**ChapSomething Reviews! (Sorry ... I probably should check which chapter this is ...)  
>Thankyou very muchly to: xDarklightx (As always, thankyou for reviewing! I'm glad you like), biblioholic (glad you thought that was funny, I certainly had fun writing it. My amateur sense of humour just bursting to get out ... And thankyou, by the way. That competition sounds very interesting. I will be sure to check it out.), Dammitimmad (yay! Thankyou! Glad you liked it!), redfrog (I was fast, wasn't I? Like a <em>ninja<em>! That's me ...), loam (thankyou thankyou thankyou! I am glad you like this so far. Hopefully this answered some questions and raised others ... mysterious, eh? Cue spooky music ...) and shini (Thanks for reviewing! Hope this wasn't too long, I kind of got off track for a bit.) **

**And ALSO thanking very muchly anyone who put this story on favourites or alerts, or even the few that put me on author alert and one on auther favourite actually, I think! Thankyou very much! But, next time, why not review as well? You will get my undying love ... **

**And it will take you like thirty seconds. Please! XD Not that I'm begging or anything ... *cough* **

**Anywho, that's all from me for now. **

**Riley Erin :) **


	10. AntiAging Reversed

**Okey-dokey! I'm really sorry about the wait; I've been up to my ears in school work and assessment's coming up ... life outside the world of fanfiction, dear readers, is a scary place. **

**I'm rather tired right now, and somehow forced myself to write THREE THOUSAND, TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FOUR WORDS (!), which means there are probably a few typos. Forgive me if there are. Any particularly drastic mistakes, please let me know in REVIEWS. Which you should write, incidentally. **

**Enjoy! **

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><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

Okay. So he was _going _to talk to the CHERUBs about Andrea and the others. But somehow it just slipped his mind. One minute Alex was opening his mouth to spill all and confess, the next Bruce was taking orders for pizza and Kyle was enlisting help with homework. Alex would freely admit it: he didn't want to disrupt things just for the sake of a _mission_. For the first time in … _years_, he felt he actually had a sort of structure to his life. He wouldn't go as far to say family - because that 'family' would, of course, be fake and only for the fabricated purposes of a mission; but it was a structure nonetheless. And it was gradually becoming very familiar and in an odd and slightly disconcerting way _comforting_ to Alex. So he didn't want to upset the delicate balance that had been developed during his stay with the CHERUBs; and while he really was in a life and death situation by not revealing the true implications of his discoveries, he still wanted to milk this for all it was worth.

Funny, really: the operation that had started out as a '_get the job done and move on_' scenario was all of a sudden '_drag it out and make the most of every minute_'.

* * *

><p>Alex was sitting, bored, while his science teacher droned on and on about what was referred to in science as the 'Ionic Bond' between atoms. Why on earth, Alex wondered, would he ever need to understand <em>that<em>? In between fighting for his life and lying to his loved ones, Alex was always pretty busy. Atoms just didn't really take precedent in his life; an abomination, he was sure his science teacher would think. Oh well. Back to feeling guilty about not telling the CHERUBs his school life shenanigan details ...

It just so happened that Alex's science teacher was also his class teacher. And a notorious scatterbrain; never mind how obsessed with science she was, Miss Blaikie certainly had a habit of putting things off to the last minute. Things, for example, such as excursion notes.

'... and that is how this particular atom is formed. There is an ionic bond between Sodium and - oh!' At the ubrupt change from her droning voice, a large portion of the class jumped. 'I almost forgot! We have an excursion coming up, class, and you guys have been lucky enough to be selected out of all the schools in this area -' _What, the one school? _Alex thought dryly, 'to go and observe first-hand the process of working in a mining company! I for one ...' She went on to make a rather sudden transition from Sodium to the opportunities of excursions.

This caught Alex's attention. Mining company? Why did that ring a bell? Not shipping ground, not chemicals shed ... Mining company! Hadn't the explosives that had been stolen from Brysons been destined to arrive at some mining company or other? Cooper-something? There could only be one mining company in their direct area, surely.

'So here you are, Sasha will you hand these out quickly, thanks for that - if you could get your parents to sign them students and hand them back in, by this Friday, with five dollars for lunch on the day. Make sure to put any allergies on the form in case you cannot eat the food, after all we wouldn't want anybody having ...'

Alex zoned out. Glancing at the note on his desk, he saw that the mining company was indeed _Cooper-Anderson and Co. _Well, that would be interesting. He looked out the window just in time to see a black car with tinted windows pull away from the school and zoom off. Oh, wonderful. The creepy-evil-children-stalkers were back.

* * *

><p>It was dinner.<p>

James was complaining about Max Norway, as he had begun to do more frequently since that afternoon with the list and _'Very Clever'_. Alex supposed he somehow felt responsible for revealing potential danger to the rest of the CHERUBs and Alex, and while incredibly useful and potentially very informative, it was still not good to be the bearer of bad news in scenarios such as these.

Kerry was pushing the food around her plate with her fork, staring into the distance – namely, meatloaf. It seemed pretty interesting considering just how much attention she was paying it. Every few seconds she would sneak a glance at the clock and always seemed disappointed when she looked back. While staying in the small town with nothing to do, Kerry had become quite obsessed with 'The Bold and the Beautiful' reruns at six thirty each night. She said it helped her focus all her murderous energy into despising the pathetic acting skills demonstrated by the cast, and the incredibly stupid and over-dramatic plotline. The boys begged to differ. Kyle himself quite enjoyed the odd episode - if only to catch up with news on Susan and her illegitimate love-child with Roger.

Kyle was having a conversation about mattresses with Bruce. The other night a spring had broken in his bed and they were now considering protesting faulty bed springs and the possible ramifications on the bed inhabitant's back. Alex wished they could have been there when he and Ash had lived in a slum. They would have _loved _that. The two boys seemed completely engrossed and did not even look up when Zara produced dessert: apple pie.

Alex, however, was not doing anything. He ate absentmindedly and spent the whole of dinner looking at those around him, observing every little thing. Every now and then he would prepare to bring up the subject of the odd goings on in his class, but every time without fail he would get distracted with James' complaints, Kerry's impatience or Zara's obvious pride at not having burnt the apples.

It really did feel good to be having a normal dinner with what looked like a normal family; at least from the outside. Alex really didn't want to spoil that mood with news on their mission. But then something stirred in his mind about the day and Alex took advantage of the temporary low in conversation.

'My class is going on an excursion in two days.' Alex said aloud. Well, of course he'd said it aloud. Why did his subconscious seem to think _that _was particularly remarkable?

Zara raised an eyebrow interestedly. 'Oh? Where to?'

Alex shrugged. 'Some mining company. I wasn't really paying attention, but I've got the note somewhere. I'll show you after dinner. I actually thought it might be interesting: the place is where those explosives were being sent to before they were stolen.'

' ... and he just won't _shut up! _It's like the first time I ask him a few actual questions about his life and now he won't stop dredging up unimportant details from the dark recesses that is Max Norway's mind! I mean you wouldn't guess what I have to deal with. Huh? Guess!'

'He has a pet rock.' Kerry guessed matter-of-factly, snatching a piece of broccoli off Bruce's plate, who was next to her. James shook his head.

'Not even close. Anyone else?'

'He has thirteen toes on his right foot.' Kyle volunteered, his face shining in genuine curiosity.

'Nope!' Okay. James was just enjoying the power he had over them now. And the power for what, exactly? For the title of _Who can guess the most things about Max Norway? _Alex snorted. You could make a quiz show, with that one.

The Fishers spent the rest of dinner effectively guessing four out of the six most annoying things James had ever had to listen to from Max Norway. Alex couldn't help but let his mind wander back to the excursion. That would be one hell of a coincidence if the one mining company that had explosives stolen would be the one _he _would be sent to - at a school excursion, no less. But coincidences were just drawn to him, weren't they?

'Okay, guys,' Zara started, setting her elbows on the table (and ignoring Kyle's protests about _manners_) and looking at them seriously. 'It's been a while since we discussed the mission and I think it's time we had a chat. Has there been any progress with you guys at all?'

'Well, Max reckons his dad is getting ready to meet that client.' James volunteered. 'And of course we still don't know who exactly the client _is_, but he definitely exists. Who else could have "ordered" those supplies in the Norway's basement?'

'Hmm ...' Bruce looked at the roof thoughtfully, 'I s'pose he has to come into the open sometime. If you stuck around with Max then you have a pretty good chance of meeting the guy - hanging out at his house and all.'

James looked horrified. 'Spend more time than necessary with _that _nerd? I don't think so! He's a nice kid and all, sure, but I don't want to know more about grammar than is absolutely necessary!'

'Stop being a child, James.' Kerry snapped, breaking out of her reverie. 'For all we know, there is something big going on here and we could miss out on the opportunity to stop it just because of you whinging about schoolwork! Not to mention being a stereotypical, hypocritical, ignorant, narrow minded _dweeb_ who can only think of himself and how things affect _him_. You make me sick!'

Everybody looked slightly shocked at her outburst, before Kyle nodded in understanding and placed a tentative hand on Kerry's shoulder, evidently afraid he'd lose his fingers if she flipped out at him, too. 'I think The Bold and the Beautiful starts in two minutes.' He murmured placatingly.

'Oh thank God.' Kerry muttered, and left the table upbruptly to turn on the TV. Zara shook her head bewilderedly and James let out a sigh of relief, patting down his body as if to check all of him was still there.

'God she's scary when she wants to be.'

'I heard that!' Came Kerry's call from the other room. 'Damn right, too!'

* * *

><p>'It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday! Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend; Friday, Friday, gettin' down on Friday! Everybody's looking forward to the -'<p>

'Oh, shut up!' Kerry growled at Bruce, who was dancing stupidly around the kitchen at seven in the morning. The members of the Fisher household were all in various states of consciousness; Bruce, as always, chirpy and quite happy to annoy the others until he got to school.

'Is somebody strangling a cat in here?' Alex commented as he entered the kitchen, black rims under his eyes from another night of tossing and turning. Thank God James could sleep though a cyclone if he wanted to. Which, evidently, he was prepared to do. Bruce mock-scowled at him before disappearing under the table to get his shoes.

'I've got that stupid excursion today!' James groaned as he took Bruce's place in the kitchen, in the process of pulling a hoodie over his head. It got stuck and he spent about thirty seconds waddling around the small space, arms flailing out and coming dangerously close to knocking the milk off the bench. Alex caught it just in time, leaving Kerry to raise her eyebrows at his reflexes before going back to scowling at her breakfast. James, meanwhile, managed to right himself and started scouting through the cupboards for Nutella.

'You're going on that too?' Kyle asked, entering and plonking himself down onto the table.

'I'm pretty sure it's the whole school.' Kerry muttered, taking a bite out of her toast and smugly watching James search in vain out of the corner of her eye. She'd finished the Nutella.

'Should be pretty interesting.' Alex said.

'Nah, I doubt it.' James replied absent-mindedly. He had now moved on to tipping the toaster upside down in case there was any toast in it. There wasn't. Thank God. 'These things are nearly always incredibly _dull_. They just drone on and on about boring history and stuff like that and expect you to be interested.'

'Some people _are _interested.' Kerry glared at him. 'Just because others -'

'Let's not start that again.' Zara graced the lot with her presence. 'You scarred James for life last night and he's annoying enough already.'

'None taken.' James replied genially.

'Oh, I meant offence.'

'I resent that!'

'Stop playing with the toaster!'

'Whatever.'

Kerry giggled and Alex rolled his eyes. Kyle was dead to the world, having dozed off at the table, and Bruce still hadn't emerged from under the table. If any of them had listened closely, which they didn't, they would have heard little '_vroom, vroom' _noises coming from near their feet. Yes, people. Bruce had found a matchbox car.

'Why exactly are we going, anyway?' Kerry asked. Alex shrugged.

'They're probably just trying to get more kids to want to work there when they leave school. There couldn't be that many prospective employees round about here, could there?'

'I suppose not.'

'It should be interesting, anyway.'

James sighed, and replaced the toaster grudgingly. 'I'll give you that.'

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><p>'Orderly lines, everybody, <em>orderly lines<em>.' The head teacher for the day mentally cursed the potholes in the road as the bus bumped and jerked yet again, causing everybody to jump about a foot in the air and, for some of the taller kids, hit their heads on the roof. Much gaffawing ensued and no-one payed the teacher the slightest attention.

Finally the bus shuddered and pulled to a stop outside what looked like a large canyon filled with machinery and dust. Oh, Lordy, this would be fun: _'Trying to Keep Track of Four Hundred and Fifty Kids in a Hectic Hole in the Ground.' _Great idea for a book.

Sure enough, as expected, there was an instant race for the largest bobcat anyone could find and the cluster of children zig-zagged crazily through the mess that was _Cooper-Anderson _in search of the prize. Alex looked around for the CHERUBs and instantly spotted Kerry in the masses, but she was surrounded by teenage girls and he couldn't bring himself to approach her. James was desperately avoiding Max Norway and Alex couldn't be bothered to get involved in that mess, Kyle was lazing around the back of the pack with Teddy Norway and his friends, but Bruce still hadn't met _ Reynolms and was looking a bit lost in the throng of teenagers. Exactly how Alex felt. The boy weaved his way through his classmates and over to the CHERUB agent, nudging his elbow by way of greeting. Bruce saw him and grinned.

'Interesting, eh? I guess you were right. Wonder who's gonna get run over first?'

'My bet's on that Adam bloke. Far too cocky, for my liking. What about you?' Alex nodded his head in the direction of a hulking blonde boy - vaguely resembling Dudley Dursely - surrounded by similar-looking bullies. They were shoving their way through the crowd, with absolutely no regard for workplace health and safety. Bruce saw them and shook his head.

_'Tsk, tsk_. The cheek of some people! I, for one, think it's far more likely for James to be flattened by some stray crane in his futile attempt to dodge the Norway nerd. Kerry'll have his head later, you wait and see.'

'I don't want to.' Alex shuddered. The teachers suddenly seemed to get their act together and the group of children were jostled into one large cluster.

'Alright, everyone listen up, will you? LISTEN UP!' Mr Noonan was scary, sometimes. Silence fell as children glanced nervously at the body-builder-turned-RE-teacher. Unpredictable, that one was. 'Ok_AY_! First of all I want you all to look this way. Secondly I want to you listen carefully to instructions. It wouldn't do to have any accidents, would it? You'll need to know where you're going or chances are you'll be squashed by a stray tractor, or something.' Nobody could deny the sadistic pleasure this prospect gave the man. 'Right! You are going to be put into groups. Red Group is as follows: Andy McRandal, Chelsea Stocks, Declan Cranitch, Daniel Ross, Eamon McWhirter ...' It went on.

After a good deal of standing and insane amounts of boredom, the groups were sorted. Curiously enough, Alex was with all of the CHERUBs. He was slightly relieved when he noticed that none of their friends were there, either. He always felt paranoid when around them; them being the focus of the mission, and all. Other than him and the rest of the "Fishers", there was "that Adam bloke", who looked a little lost and a bit on the defensive without his cronies by his side, a girl named Tara who was originally from Canada, and two twins, Christiana and Tika Devereaux, who flipped their platinum blonde, straightened, down-to-their-knees hair nervously and stuck together like glue. Neither was wearing appropriate shoes for a mining company either, Alex noted with a certain degree of disapproval. Oh well. Out of the corner of his eye Alex could have sworn he saw a black car with tinted windows drive off from behind the parked bus, but when he turned there was no trace of it. Bloody creepy-evil-children-stalkers. Getting him all paranoid.

The "tour-guide" for their group had approached them, but Alex wasn't paying attention. He was busy scanning the horizon for any strange, out-of-place limosines. Of course, in a mining company, just about _any _limosine would be out-of-place; but anyway. Suddenly his ears caught the last bit of instruction from before-mentioned tour-guide, just informing them to stay with the group and not go running off. But it was not the instruction that had Alex whirling around ninja-fast to face their instruction; it was the voice. A voice that he knew very well. That he had heard under many circumstances, and that he had kind of hoped he would never hear again.

Nope, not Julia Rothman back from the grave.

Nu-uh, not Yassen Gregorovitch randomly returned.

Wrong; not some miscellaneous henchman whose best friend and colleage he had once killed.

Once matched with the face in front of him, the voice belonged to a very business-like, very _adult_, Andrea.

So ... when did she turn thirty-something?

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><p><strong>Eyes ... itching ... closing ... drifting ... dozing ... HEY! I've been rhyming! Well whaddaya know; I'm a poet and I didn't know it! Hah! <strong>

**Hope you liked. Hope you review. Hope you don't die in the next twenty four hours or so. Hope I win the lottery ... it goes on. **

**Chap9 Reviews!  
>Thanks enormously to: xDarklightx (you're like continuously the first person to review! Thanks, for that!), biblioholic (I toyed with the idea of making it like a youth spy school or something; in fact, that was like the main intention, but then I thought it might end up a bit corny or unrealistic or something and I kind of ended up with this. Thanks for reviewing, again!), SwedenBabe (Mmhm, it's a real surname. I'm pretty sure you can use anything as a surname and be guaranteed that someone, somewhere, sometime once had it. I mean, "Toodlepip" might not be strictly realistic, but it's possible. Glad you're enjoying the story and hope this chapter was to your liking.), Dammitimmad (good! That's the idea ...), becky (good to know. Hope you liked this chapter too, and thanks for reviewing!), ForeverRainingFire (Thanks so much! Sorry about him not spilling the beans in this chapter; will happen next, I promise :) and Jujrulz (okelydokely. Will see what I can do. Thanks for reviewing!) <strong>


	11. We're all Royally Screwed

**Would you believe me if I said I was really, really sorry that this took so long to write, and that even now it's pitifully short? Because I am. I really, really, am. The fact of the matter is, when you have an eight week term and nine subjects insistent on assessing you on various (and pointless) skills you're supposed to have learned throughout said eight week term, you've got yourself one busy couple of weeks. And I'm afraid that that, coupled with a _really _bad case of Writer's Block, has led me to be standing here today (metaphorically), apologising, humbly and sincerely, for the wait. (At some point here I've turned into the head waiter from Monty Python's "dirty fork" sketch combined with Stresspert Julian Holmes from the IT Crowd. Interesting combination, I suppose ...) **

**Anyway, you're not interested in all of that, so you can read the chapter now. I am sorry it's so short, too, but I figured I had to post _something_. And anyway, it's a start. A bit cut-and-paste-y, but I can work with this. *nervous smile* **

**Enjoy! **

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><p><strong>ALEX POV<strong>

It was slightly anticlimactic, really.

They were standing on a road that partly resembled an airport runway, in the idea that it was clean and wide and surrounded by a great expanse of bare land. On one side was a railing that looked down onto the actual mining ground below. To the opposite side was the car park where they had arrived, their bus still standing, shaking slightly, waiting patiently for their return. Various buildings stood off the car park. Alex could only assume there had been school excursions here before; they certainly were well-prepared.

Andrea (if that was even her name, Alex thought darkly) didn't even glance at him throughout the whole dreary proceeding of marking off people's names on a register of some sort - to "keep track of them", apparently - and didn't even seem to notice the now very icy death glare she was getting from one of her charges. In fact, her lack of interest in him even caused him to falter for a second, wondering if it really was her or if he just overreacting.

But Alex Rider _never _overreacts.

Sure, sometimes he's wrong (though he's loathe to admit it), and sometimes he makes really stupid mistakes, and sometimes ... well, sometimes he makes a bit of a fool of himself.

But he _never _overreacts.

With that little inspirational self-pep-talk over with, Alex went back to staring, one third gobsmacked, one third psycho-furious, one third calmly furious, at "Andrea". The back of his mind idly wondered if it was normal for teenagers to get this good at waiting for people to pull guns on them. Probably not, it concluded.

Fair enough.

They started walking towards the rail. Alex kept glaring. Occasionally shooting a precautionary glance over his shoulder and around the immediate vicinity, but mainly glaring.

'Okay, everybody.' Andrea began. 'The first thing you need to know about mining, you probably already know. But I'll tell you anyway: mining is the extraction of valuable minerals or other geological materials from the earth from a "vein" or "seam". Everybody following so far?' Various nods.

_Straight from a Wikipedia page_. Alex thought scathingly. His hand inched towards his pocket where he knew a mobile phone was waiting innocently for somebody to press '78999' and alert the heads of MI6 of an emergency. He restrained himself, however, remembering his mission. _Investigate SCORPIA. _And how could he investigate SCORPIA from the cozy (sarcasm) office of Mr Alan Blunt?

'We won't actually be going anywhere near the mines,' Andrea continued. She ignored the groan of disappointment from Adam and quite a few of the CHERUBs and the sigh of relief from all the girls of their group; mainly the twins with the innapropriate shoes. 'That would be a health and safety hazard, and your teachers didn't send you here to get killed.' She didn't say it like a joke, but Alex still suspected he was the only one that even vaguely picked up the threat behind the voice. 'However, we will be taking a closer look at one or two of the machines used in the mining process. Of course, we've got a few to pick from: bulldozers, drills, explosives and trucks are all necessary for excavating the land; in fact, they are just a few examples. If you just take a look over here,' they had reached the railing, 'you will see that there is indeed a lot of machinery invo -'

At that point Andrea was cut off by a blipping in her coat pocket. She paused and removed a little device which resembled a pager, and stood, frowning slightly, at the screen.

Alex took this opportunity to look at her more closely. In essence, it was still "Andrea". The same hair, albeit tied into a harsh bun on the top of her head. The same face, albeit coated in quite a lot more makeup than Alex previously remembered. The same hands, albeit now with long, manicured fingernails. In short, the transformation resembled that in the Agatha Christie Poirot movie adaptation, _Cat Amongst the Pidgeons_. The one where a girl of no more than fourteen years old went missing and turned up again as a woman of twenty-one, at least. The fact of the matter was that if it was possible in the forties it was damn well possible in the twenty-first century.

As proved by the woman standing in front of Alex.

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><p><strong>BRUCE POV<strong>

Bruce was seeing how long he could stare at "that Adam bloke" out of the corner of his eye before the guy noticed. So far his eyeball was hurting from the effort and no reaction had been gauged. None at all.

...

So ...

...

Okay, so maybe Bruce didn't want to admit it - (because Bruce was _never _bored) - but, Bruce was bored. He tried to be interested in the scenery: tractors, cranes, little men wearing hard-hats, etc.; but it just wasn't getting his attention very well. He decided to name the pebbles he passed on the ground.

Bruce ... Bruce Jr ... Bruce Jr Jr ... Bruce Jr Jr Sr Jr ... Bruce Jr Jr Jr Jr ... Bruce 2.0 ... Bruce 2.0 Jr ... Bruce McPherson ... Bruce McPhee ... Bruce Smith ... Bruce Nottingwam ... Bruce Wottingham ...

Soon enough he had a pretty good game going on. Take a breath, ladies and gentleman. Bruce was no longer bored.

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><p><strong>JAMES POV <strong>

James had to wonder why they sent kids on excursions like these. He was finding it a _little_ interesting, you know - looking at big cars and machinery all day - and it got even more interesting when Alex starting glaring at their instructor like she had eaten his dog or something, but he still had to wonder.

Wait - what? Alex was glaring at their instructor like she had eaten his dog or something? James did a double-take and stared. Alex was indeed shooting eye-daggers at the woman. Interesting ... James nudged Kerry but she immediately shoved him back so that was to no avail. He shrugged and went back to looking at the machinery.

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><p><strong>ZARA POV<strong>

Zara had a fairly uneventful morning. She called CHERUB campus and informed them on all the relevant changes, spoke briefly to Ewart and then went about the normal stay-at-home-mum activities. There was washing to be done, dishes to be washed, beds to be made and shopping to be faced. Not for the first time since she'd started joining kids on missions with CHERUB, she found herself longing for the luxurious campus janitors and cooks, but shook the thought out of her head. It wouldn't do to get all homesick when it didn't look like they would be finished here any time soon.

After lunch she sat down at the computer and, ignoring the throbbing in her temples from a hard morning's work and little sleep that night, logged into her emails. Nothing. She sighed, closed the window and sat staring unseeingly at the now blank screen. A sudden buzzing brought her back to reality goodness knows how many minutes later and she reached over to her mobile phone, which was sitting inconspicuously on the desk next to her. It was a text from John Jones, simply stating for her to check her email. _Well, okay then, Mr Late-Emails. _She thought sullenly, but shook her head at the strange insult her mind had come up with. And opened the one email in her inbox. And stared.

It seemed John had been doing a little research since her call that morning, and he'd certainly found some interesting facts. For example: the new students in Alex's class' records didn't match up, but once run through facial recognition it seemed they had three fully-grown freelance killers on their hands. Zara gulped. Well, this couldn't be good. But nothing could happen at school, right? They were all on an excursion, weren't they? Well, at least nobody could try anything there with the whole school present. But where was the excursion again ...?

Oh dear. It was at the blasted mining place, wasn't it?

Zara was out of her seat and in her car within thirty seconds. Mobile left forgotten on the desk, computer open to the same email, she was turning off at the necessary point and beginning the half-hour drive within the next forty seconds. Sixty seconds later, two figures clad in black that had been partially obscured by the bushes before Zara had left entered the house quietly and went straight for the kitchen table, on which lay the computer and all other relevant items involved in the mission.

Twenty minutes later the house was empty, the information having been loaded onto a USB and the files having been copied and replaced in exactly the same position. Zara was pulling up at the mining ground and trying to persuade a guard at the entrance to let her in, wishing she had brought some form of ID to use. Twenty-one minutes later a warning of her presence had been issued to Andrea - among others - and Alex, the CHERUBs, and the others in their group had been shepherded off to a different (more secure, although they didn't know that) area of the ground.

Twenty-four minutes later Alex had sent a signal to Smithers that let the man know he was in trouble, and was eyeing the new room they were in dubiously, seriously doubting that it was an extra control room. The CHERUBs were glancing nervously from their instructor, who had been on the receiving end of numerous death stares from Alex, to Alex, who had been sending numerous death stares to their instructor, wondering what the hell was going on. "That Adam Bloke" had already decided that mining companies were stupid, the twins were discussing in hushed tones who was hotter (Taylor Lautner or Robert Pattinson) and Tara was trying to remember what the fifteenth element on the periodic table was.

In other words, they were all royally screwed.

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><p><strong>So there you go. Nothing much really happened then, really, did it? Sorry. I really <em>don't like <em>this chapter. **

**Chap10 Reviews:  
>Thankyou lots and lots and lots to: xDarklightx (as ever, thanks for reviewing,), MonssterUnderYourBed (Chap3: I really hate bobbypins. They always fall out, and they hurt my fingers, and they're stupid ... eugh. Chap7: I know that feeling! I'm always up so late because of FFnet. Glad my story seems to be capturing your attention! That's always a good sign ... right? Chap9: Yes, I was quite proud of that line too ;) and FINALLY Chap10: sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry it took so long! *sheepish expression*; hope you liked!), Dammitimmad (a twist indeed ... sorry this chapter is so rubbish ;P), 32-star (glad you're enjoying! Thanks for reviewing :) and loam (hello again! Thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad you're enjoying!) <strong>

**Please review, even if there isn't much to review _on_ ... *sour face*, I swear something's up with my imagination all of a sudden. Anywho, review and goodNIGHT! **

**Riley Erin :) **


	12. Of Pagers and Lockpicking

**A/N: Hi ... *sheepish smile* **

**So it's been a while. Heh heh ... I'm not going to offer you any excuses because it's not the authors note you all alerted my story for, it's the story, so that would be wasting my, and your, time, but I will say a quick sorry and then get on with it. **

**... Sorry! *nervous smile* Really, sorry. But I'm here now! Yay ... **

**So anyways, reviews would be really great if you could manage it :) **

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><p>Guard 3 was an ordinary enough man.<p>

His name was not, in fact, Guard 3 - it was Michael Fitzgerald - but on the roster he was Guard 3 and as a result people had developed a habit of calling him that. His job was your usual, typical, run-of-the-mill security job. He worked at a mining company; he sat in a booth at the front of the place, relatively away from the roar of machinery and workers alike, and basically read all day. Guard 3 liked to read. He found it soothing.

Whenever somebody arrived at the mine, which depended on what was happening on that particular day, he would check either their pass or their truck and then he would press a button, wave a hand, and they would drive past him, through the now open electronic gate and into the frey. He would watch them go for a second, but then he would pick up his coffee mug, take a sip, swivel his swivel chair a little, retrieve his book and resume reading.

It was just your average, boring, run-of-the-mill security job, and Guard 3 was quite happy with his life _and _his occupation, thankyou very much. However, on this particular day - it was a Friday - Guard 3 had a feeling that something wasn't quite ... right.

For starters, he forgot his book. He was reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and he'd just gotten up to the part where Harry had drunk the Felix Felicis to trail Slughorn when he'd gone and left the book at his house, thirty minutes away! He huffed, annoyed at himself. He was looking forward to that bit! Would Slughorn give Harry the memory he needed, or would Harry and Dumbledore have to come up with another plan to reveal Voldemort's secret to immortality? Now he'd have to wait six hours to find out!

Secondly, he sat himself down into his booth only to realise that his little instant coffee jar was empty, with only a few grains - twenty at the _most_ - sitting innocently at the bottom. Guard 3 swore softly, threw the jar into a little rubbish basket, and resigned himself to drinking warm water out of his mug all day.

Thirdly, there was a crazy-ass woman demanding to be let into the mine without any ID or appointment.

Guard 3 sighed, as the woman (who said her name was Fisher, or something) asked, for the third time in ten minutes, to see the manager. He supposed he was just going to have to resign himself to an awful day, he thought, as he finally gave in and agreed to fetch his boss.

Ruffling his hair awkwardly as he stooped to exit the little booth he had made his own, Guard 3 told the woman sternly to wait for him to return, because for some reason his pager wasn't where it was supposed to be - namely, his pocket.

The woman looked for all the world like an annoyed, impatient, but law-abiding citizen when he left her. She settled back into her car seat huffily, crossing her arms, and closed her eyes tiredly while cranking up the air-con. Guard 3 didn't even entertain the possibility that she was anything other than a strange person who, for reasons she either didn't know or wasn't prepared to disclose, was desperate to enter private property but was resigning herself to wait for his manager.

What Guard 3 didn't know, of course, was that the woman was profficient in lock picking.

She had ducked under the now open gate exactly four minutes and thirty six seconds before Guard 3 returned with his manager, and exactly four minutes and fifty nine seconds before Guard 3 was issued a cautionary warning from said manager, for making it possible for an unknown person to enter the grounds without clearance.

Guard 3 sighed.

It was just one of those days.

* * *

><p>Zara let out a sigh of relief as she came across a discarded hard hat hung up on a railing while she surveyed the grounds. She stuck it on her head and tried to look official as she scanned around her for any sign of children, but it was as though the excursion had been cancelled. A little niggling fear that it had, spontaneously, been called off without her knowledge, wriggled its way into the back of her mind as she kept searching for Alex and the kids with no success. But Zara squared her shoulders and continued on her way, occasionally pretending to inspect the railing - deciding to impersonate some form of safety inspector - as she went. Wasn't the lack of children just another suspicious thing for her to worry about? They could be anywhere! They could have been kidnapped, or sold to slave traders, or ... Zara took a deep breath. This wasn't helping anybody.<p>

She turned, intending to retrace her steps in the hope that some children had popped up out of nowhere nearer to the entrance, when she found herself at eye level with somebody's chest.

She stopped short.

Taking a step back, Zara could see that the chest in question - encased in a clean business shirt and attached to some _very _intimidating arms - belonged to a man. A large, muscely, scary, official-looking man, who was eyeing her with confusion and suspicion rolled into one. Zara suppressed a groan. This was just what she needed.

Instead she tilted her head back, squinting slightly against the sun, to look the man in the eye and brushed her hands down her clothes in what she hoped was a confident-looking manner.

"Yes?" She asked.

The man's brows furrowed. "Sorry, I didn't see you there." He hesitated. "Er - I don't mean to be rude, but ... who exactly are you? Are you allowed to be on this level?"

What level? Zara looked around bewilderedly, but all she could see were two levels: a safe one where she could look down into the not-so-safe one, which housed trucks and sand and ... mining stuff.

"Um ..." She thought he might know if she said she as a safety inspector and there wasn't one scheduled for that day. In fact, maybe safety inspectors did not even come to this particular mine! No, it was time to fall back on good old reliable CHERUB training.

"I'm with the school," she replied as easily as she could. "We're on an excursion?"

The man's expression cleared. "Right. Sorry, I forgot about that." He gave her a friendly smile as Zara felt a sigh of relief buidling, but pushed it down. "How's it going, then? Kids interested?"

Zara nodded. "Oh yes, they're very ... they're very interested about all of the mining business." She hesitated, trying to get into the mindset of a teacher. "They're mostly into the trucks, though," she ended up saying jokingly, forcing a light laugh.

The man chuckled with her. "Yes, I'm sure. Well, I'll just be going -"

"Um -!" Zara interrupted him before he could walk off. She tried to look sheepish. "Well, you see, I just had to take a phone call and it seems my students have wandered off with their guide ... I don't suppose you could tell me where they might be? I'm a little lost." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, sure." The man adopted a thinking expression. "Well, they definitely won't be down there," he gestured to the chasm below them and Zara shivered, "but I suppose they might have been taken to look at some buildlings for a look at the technical side of things. We've got the control rooms over there," he pointed, "and some offices over there. If you don't have any luck, I'd go to the man at the gate. He can probably page somebody and figure out where they are."

Zara nodded gratefully. "Thanks. Have a good day,"

"You too." With that he strode purposely off, not glancing back once.

Zara breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm getting too old for this." She grumbled as she headed off in the direction of the buildlings the man had pointed out to her. "These assassins better be damn worth it."

* * *

><p>The room was small. There was one window - too high up and too small to possibly provide a source of exit or entry; a control panel; a phone with no power cord and one door out. Which was locked.<p>

Alex breathed a frustrated sigh as he paced up and down the small space, manouevering around the confused and slightly uneasy Tara and the oblivious twins and bloke-whose-name-he-couldn't-be-bothered-to-remember. The CHERUBs were looking at him in consternation, but none of them seemed to be willing to ask him what was wrong. Of course they all knew something was up by this stage, but they seemed to have decided to wait for Alex to get his thoughts together first. Instead, Kyle was inspecting the lock on the door with mild interest, and James and Bruce were talking quietly over by a brick of a computer.

If he was honest with himself, Alex would admit that this was at least partly his fault. He should have known better than to trust MI6 - even if it was Smithers - to respond to an emergency call right away. They probably hadn't even noticed he'd sent it yet. And then he'd just walked, like the unassuming, naive child he _wasn't _supposed to be, into this trap! "Andrea" had said she'd needed to discuss something with their teachers before they could continue the tour. She'd said there had been some sort of accident with the machinery and now they were debating whether or not it was safe for there to be children wandering around the grounds. She had said that she locked the door for precautionary reasons. She _didn't_ say what she was surely thinking: that the precaution was less for their safety, and more so that they couldn't run off.

"Alex?" Kerry ventured. When he didn't reply, she continued in a more confident-sounding voice. "Alex, you're being weird. Stop pacing or you'll give yourself a headache. Just talk to us."

"Um, sorry, but what are you guys acting so strange about?" Tara asked nervously from where she stood against the wall.

Alex spun around to her. "I'm sorry. But I'm supposed to go home because I have a doctor's appointment in half an hour but my mum can't collect me if we're locked in a room. I'm just a bit stressed out," he said in a forceful rush.

Kyle caught on to what he was trying to do, but he also caught on to the fact that because Alex was very clearly not in the mood for placating the other students, Tara hadn't really been convinced by his less-than-convincing speech. In an attempt to make it a little more convincing, he smiled apologetically at her. "Sorry, Alex is just really uptight." He said, just like any irratable older brother would.

Alex calmed himself down enough to glare at him, just like any annoyed younger brother would do. Then he went back to stressing out.

So ... he couldn't use the window. There was nothing stopping him from picking up the computer and using it to bash down the door, but there were students here and he wasn't sure he could pass off damaging the company's property as just a way to get to a doctor's appointment. Kids usually didn't even like doctor's appointments! ...Unless there were lollipops involved. Alex forced his thoughts back on track.

Glancing around the room, his gaze landed on James and Bruce again. James was tapping away at the keys of the ancient computer while Bruce gave what sounded like instructions behind him, looking over his shoulder, and the screen was blipping slightly. Alex's brow creased. What were they doing ...?

"Er, are you, like, allowed to be, like, hacking into that computer?" One of the twins asked snootily (and yet, although she tried to hide it, slightly alarmed), after following Alex's confused gaze to the boys.

Bruce glanced briefly at her. "Yeah, we're just seeing if they've got any decent video games. I'm bored." He said casually. The girl rolled her eyes.

"Boys will be boys," she muttered, slightly more assured, and her sister snickered. That Adam bloke perked up at the mention of computer games.

"You know, just because you're bored I don't know if it's very smart to hack into -" Tara began, but just then James seemed to tap into what looked like a file. He and Bruce frowned slightly at the screen.

"Hey Kerry," James interrupted the confused Tara, calling over his shoulder. "Come look at this."

Kerry moved to look over James' shoulder. "Huh." She stated, "Hey Kyle,"

Kyle joined the crowd of CHERUBs, squinting at the screen. "Yeah, that's odd." He said.

Alex sighed again, frustrated ... again. The CHERUBs were conversing to soft tones, thinking, and seemed to have forgotten Alex was there. He didn't really care. He had to figure out a way to get them out of here before "Andrea" came back. Maybe he would have to convince the other students to turn around and stare at the wall, and _then _he could bash down the door with the computer?

That sounded stupid, even to himself. But how else was he going to get that door open?

Just as he thought those words, the door swung open.

* * *

><p>Zara pushed her hair out of her eyes as she approached a small row of buildings. They were the offices the man in the suit had pointed her to, but she couldn't see why anybody would take children into them for educational purposes. They were tiny, boring and not at all her idea of a fun excursion!<p>

Nevertheless, Zara approached the first office door. The doorknob didn't even turn when she tried it, and the mission controller let out a huff of breath. Everything was just going to be difficult for her today, wasn't it?

Muttering darkly to herself, she bent down at the knees and drew a hairpin out of her pocket. It was hot in the sun, and the hard hat on her head just made her hair sweaty and her forehead itchy. She pushed it back irritably. Shoving the hairpin into the lock and wiggling it roughly, Zara finally found something going right for her that day as she heard the lock give a tiny, 'click'.

Straightening up, she stowed the bobby pin back into her pocket, turned the handle smoothly, and swung open the door ...

* * *

><p>Guard 3 was looking for his pager. The fact that he couldn't find it had just served to make his boss - a large, intimidating man who always wore pressed suits despite the heat of the sun - angrier. So he'd vowed to himself that he would look for the stupid machine until it turned up, as it was sure to do at some point.<p>

He paused in his search to press the button that opened the gate, so that a crowded school bus could pass out of the school. Kids were pressing their faces up against the window, obviously annoyed with the abrupt departure. Guard 3 was slightly annoyed with it, too. He'd been told that the school children wouldn't be leaving until that afternoon, but then there'd been some sort of problem with machines and the school had been forced to leave, or something. The man who'd informed Guard 3 of the change - a stocky man with a pale face, red hair and freckles - hadn't been very specific.

As the bus receded into the distance Guard 3 stopped to take stock of his progress in looking for his pager. So far he'd checked in the rubbish basket, under his swivel chair, in all of his pockets, in the drawers - even around the ground outside his booth. Nothing.

He was sighing defeatedly, already considering giving up on his vow, when he glanced out the window of the booth. Not too far away, he spotted a woman with an angry scowl on her face - wearing a neat suit with her hair done up nicely. She was inside the grounds, and so really none of his concern, but at the sight of her Guard 3 opened his mouth indignantly and jumped out of his booth, heading over to her quickly. She was holding something in her hands, something that she was obviously not happy at/about, judging by her murderous expression. But her expression was not Guard 3's focus, because the thing she was scowling at in her hands was his pager. _His pager! _

Just as he got within calling distance, the woman spun on her heel and without noticing his outraged expression nor, indeed, his presence at all, she stomped off into the dust.

Guard 3 pressed his mouth in a thin line. He may have had an awful day today, but he would - if it was the last thing he did - he _would _get his pager back!

And with that he stomped off to follow the angry-looking woman.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please! :) <strong>

**Chap11 Review replies:  
>Major Simi (thanks for reviewing!), xDarklightx (long time, no see, eh? Thanks for your review, as always), biblioholic (thanks for the advice and for reviewing!), loam (hello again! It is fantastic to find another multi-tasker in this world - it is so underrated, right? - and just so you know your review was very entertaining! :) So thanks for that!), sama-chan (lol, your review made me smile :) thanks!), TheAwesomeJellyBean (no k-unit, I'm afraid, but thanks for reviewing! ...and, sorry I took so long to post. Life calls, though, eh?), WishingthatIhadafanficaccount (love the penname, btw. What's stopping you, though? So anyways, I kinda failed with the 'updating soon', but I made the chapter nine hundred words longer than usual to make up for it? hehe? My favourite character is probably, because I think he's cute, Guard 3. Yep. But otherwise it would be Zara or James. But I digress. They are, indeed, all awesome. Thanks for the review!), animato22 (I updated, though kinda late :S thanks for the review!), Ibbbby (thanks so much! I hope this wasn't too rubbish), LaxRox (Thankyou thankyou!) AND Synchro lover (how was the updateeeeeeeeeeee? lol. a bit late, I know. thx for the review!) <strong>

**Thankyou to all of you who have put this on alerts or favourites, you're fantastic, and see you all next chapter! We don't have long to go, I think ... **

**Riley Erin :) **


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